


Runaways

by larinia713



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-14 03:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1251016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larinia713/pseuds/larinia713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Rachel moves out to an apartment closer to her blossoming Broadway career, Kurt struggles to make ends meet while only have one roommate left, Santana.  At her suggestion he applies for the open bartender slot at the hottest gay bar/club in NYC, Runaways.  The owner of Runaways, Sebastian, has only a few rules.  1) Be on time. 2) Don't use your real name when working behind the bar. 3) Flirt as much as you want and appear available. 4) Never actually be available.  To Kurt the rules are just fine and the money is even better.  Life however has the tendency to hand Kurt lemons, which just so happen to make a great garnish for vodka tonics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Four Horsemen

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Most of the fic is centered in a bar, however there is no alcoholism or alcohol abuse. Some mild language and innuendos. Heaps of UST (sorry :/). Mild age difference (38-25).  
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character mentioned within this fic aside from the two small OC’s. There are three songs mentioned in this fic as well: Thunderstuck by AC/DC, Tilt Ya Head Back by Nelly and Christina Aguilera, and Single Ladies by Beyoncé. The only claim I have to these songs is that they are in my iTunes!  
> Since I don’t want to break the flow of the chapters by adding a note at the beginning of one in the middle of the fic… Here is a video that I pulled some of Sebastian’s flair techniques from. Add this to the youtube url (/watch?v=60GJ0dJ1xmE) Specifically the juice bit at 1:00 and the helicopter/juggle at 2:11. This correlates with Chapter 3.

Kurt sat at the kitchen table looking over all his bills.  Ever since Rachel moved out, he and Santana had to split the loft rent in half since they didn’t want to add another roommate.  The bills in front of him proved that he needed to get another job.

NYADA was great for experience, but just because it looked great on your resume didn’t mean that a part would automatically be yours.  Thank the flying troll behind the moon that he still had his job working under Isabelle.  He was getting paid more now that he had been there for five years, but looking at the notices and calculator in front of him, he knew it was still not enough.   _At least I’m not taking coffee orders or going on take-out runs anymore_ , he thought.

Santana breezed by, still in her skimpy tank and barely-there underwear, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Ya know, I know we have real walls and everything now so I don’t have to actually _hear_ you and Dani having sex anymore, but could you at least throw a robe on when you leave your room?” Kurt asked snidely over his shoulder as he took a sip from his lukewarm coffee before grimacing at the taste.

Santana plopped down in a chair adjacent to him and pulled her leg up to her chest while cradling her own mug of fresh, steaming coffee.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch, Ladyface?”

Kurt mumbled a “Whatever, Santana” as he stood to dump is coffee and mug into the sink.  He didn’t notice that Santana has started to shift through all of the bills that he left on the table.

“You know, if you need a second job, I heard that Runaways is hiring a new bartender.  You could work with all your little fashionistas during the day and still have money to pay rent and look your own version of Kurt-Hummel-Fabulous.”

“Santana, how many times do I have to give you the ‘privacy and your roommates’ talk?” Kurt asked as he snatched a credit card bill out of her hands.

“Cool your nuts, Hummel.  I’m just trying to help,” she said as she sauntered back to her room and shut the door.

Kurt sighed for what felt the 19th time that morning.   _Maybe it’s time to dust of those old bartending skills._

Granted, his college education did net him a wonderful opportunity to be prepared for all the trials of audition after audition, what it also got him was a ton of other experiences he never knew he would be called upon to use later in his life.  One was obviously the experimentation with all the over-stressed students to enhance and blossom his sex life.  Now the fun times he had mixing drinks would allow him to pay his growing debt.

Kurt swallowed his pride and walked over to Santana’s door and knocked gently.

“Hey Tana?  What time would they be open for me to put in an application?”

* * *

Kurt leaned against the abused bar top while filling out his application.  He noticed that even with all the nicks, grooves, and scratches along the surface, it was incredibly clean.  In fact, the whole bar was almost immaculate.

He remembered how filthy he felt the instant he and Dave walked into to Scandals his senior year looking for adventure.  He vowed to his once-best-friend to never again visit a bar he suggested.  But, New York had helped Kurt not look at every bar in disgust since then and he had never seen one empty before.

The floors were spotless and there didn’t seem to be a sticky table top in sight.  Kurt couldn’t even smell the stale and sour scent of old, spilled liquor.  If he could get this job, he at least knew that he wouldn’t have to get a series of shots if he leaned against the wrong surface.

The bouncer who let him in was even nice and friendly.  To be honest, he expected an even more jumped-up version of Puck.  Frank was nice though.  Maybe a bit too muscular for Kurt’s normal tastes but a nice enough piece of eye candy.

Kurt glanced up from the last page of his application when he heard what appeared to be Frank’s robust laughter from near the front doors.  He then saw a long and lanky figure walking backwards throwing out a “We’ll see” before turning and staring at Kurt.

“‘We’ll see’ what?” Kurt asked.

The guy looked to be about 10 years Kurt’s senior, with a smirk to rival the most evil of Disney’s villains.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me?”  The man’s smirk dropped to an open-mouthed stare of incredulity.  “Are you even able to legally serve alcohol, Milkmaid?”

Kurt stiffened and raised his chin in the air defiantly.

“I’m 25.  What are you?  50?” Kurt retorted, over exaggerating what he thought the man’s age to be, and saw the man’s mouth morph into a small smile.

“Interesting,” he said and held out his hand for Kurt to shake. “I’m Sebastian.  Not everyone would back-talk the owner of the bar where they’re applying to, but I like the change of pace.  Shows that you have spunk.”

“Well Sebastian… I’m here for a job, not patronizing comments about my appearance.  While I look young, I assure you I can handle myself, and probably you too.”  Kurt stayed firmly in place, not willing to back down to an obvious challenge while his new would-be boss looked him up and down again.

“Well at least your snark will be able to keep you from having a problem behind the bar.”

“Wait.  Does that mean I’m hired?” Kurt asked, very confused.

Sebastian just nodded and hummed in the affirmative as he pulled Kurt’s application towards him and stuffing it in his bag.

“You’re not even going to look at my references?  Make sure I am a legal citizen?  Nothing?”

“What were you expecting?  An audition?” Sebastian sighed out. “You’re of age to serve, or so you say.  I need someone to work tonight since Hunter sprained his ankle last week.  And to be honest, your school boy face and bitchy attitude will probably make me a ton in sales tonight.  That is if you can manage to make drinks without fucking up.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed further as Sebastian’s condescending tone elevated.

“Come on now, Shirley.  If you can handle tonight, I’ll have you come in to sign the paperwork to put you on the payroll come Tuesday afternoon.”  Sebastian winked before heading to a door to the right of the bar that Kurt assumed led to an office.  As he reached it, he turned to Kurt and looked him up and down again.  “You might want to wear pants that are a little looser than those so you can move tonight.  It gets pretty busy.  Other than that, just put on a black top and whatever comfortable shoes you want.  Be here at 7.”

Kurt nodded mutely, but Sebastian had already turned his back to him and walked through the door.

* * *

After getting back to his and Santana’s apartment at a little after 4, Kurt decided to take a small nap.  He didn’t know how long Sebastian expected him to work tonight since every time he had been at a club or bar in the city, he left well before last call.

 

 _When was last call on a Saturday night?  Is it later than the other days of the week?_  Kurt had no idea and since Santana had left the loft empty by the time he returned, and had no one to ask.

He tossed and turned for over half an hour before rummaging under his bed for his boyfriend pillow.  Soon he was fast asleep and, in what seemed like seconds, he was startled awake by the siren of what had to be several ambulances zooming by.

The loft was soon quiet once more but the sun was coming in from an angle that Kurt was sure meant that he was going to be late.  As he disentangled himself from ‘Bruce’ he reached for his phone.

Swearing, he jumped out of bed and searched for his old black Chucks to wear.  It was already 6 and there was no way he had time for a shower to make himself look his normally flawless self.  In fact, he was pretty sure that he would still have the imprint of one of Bruce’s buttons on his cheek when he walked in the bar’s door tonight.  He kept on his tight jeans from earlier, again not having time to think about changing into anything else and quickly snatched a black t-shirt to throw on after wiggling out of his button-down.

Still swearing to himself under his breath, Kurt managed to hop into his shoes while crossing the loft to get his bag and light jacket from the hook near the door.  Just because he was running late, he wouldn’t leave without his bag and something to ward off the late summer chill once he left Runaways.  Plus, he never went anywhere without his pepper spray, a promise he made his dad when he first moved to New York.

Kurt was well aware of the fact that he looked like one of the crazy people he normally avoided on the subway with the way he was frantically trying to fix his hair by running his hands through it and muttering curses when he saw his reflection.  This wasn’t how he wanted to make an impression on his new boss and coworkers.  Even if his first thought of Sebastian was that he was a grade-A ass, he wasn’t about to burn bridges if it led to a steady paycheck, which was topic number one to discuss when he talked to his new employer.

* * *

**6:56 pm**

“Fuck,” Kurt huffed as he looked down at his watch as he trotted down the sidewalk near Runaways.  He refused to break into sprint to make it to the doors on time.  Showing up drenched in sweat and panting like a dog was worse in his mind that walking in a couple of minutes late and being somewhat composed.  Granted he didn’t really want either, but he chose the lesser of two evils.

**6:59 pm**

The doors and the small sign above them came into view.  Kurt slowed down to a brisk walk to catch his breath and noticed Frank standing outside and leaning against the brick façade with one foot propped up on the wall under him.

**7:01 pm**

Frank smiled at him as he let out a huge breath and jerked the door open.  Kurt thought that he heard Frank chuckle a little too as the door was sliding closed but didn’t think more of it.

The last of the sun was streaming in from between the buildings across the street and bouncing off the mirror behind the bar.  It was slightly blinding, but seeing the light bounce off the different ambers of the high-end liquor on the shelves was beautiful.  Kurt was forced out of his small amusement by the harsh sound of glass breaking and a couple of muttered curses and giggles.

“Dammit Link!”  Kurt heard through the door of Sebastian’s office behind the bar.  Shortly after that the man came out.

“You’re late,” Sebastian said taking in his appearance and Kurt assumed he was making sure that Kurt was dressed appropriately for tonight.  Before Kurt could appeal that he was only one minute late, Sebastian was already walking to the far side of the club to a door Kurt didn’t notice before and yelling down what appeared to be a set of stairs.

“If that was top shelf, your ass is grass!”

“Nope.  I promise.  It was just a small case of Goose that someone marked as empty!” Came a cheery reply.

“Well, you and Nick need to get up here and meet the new guy.  We got rules to go over before opening.”

Kurt watched as a blond and brunet came up the stairs with a couple of cases of random bottles each and stowed them behind the bar before turning to him and smiling.

“Kurt, meet Jeff and Nick.  You’ll be working side by side with them tonight,” Sebastian said.  “Just a quick run through of the rules, since _some of us_ need a refresher course and Kurt is a newbie…

“Don’t use your real names.  I don’t know how many times I have to go through this with you two.  Kurt you will be introduced by me later and then I expect you two to keep to it this time,” he said pointedly at that two behind the bar as they hunched their shoulders shamefully.

“Kurt, this is for everyone’s safety.  Trust me.  Sometimes we get crazies in here that like to chase you guys, and its better if they can’t stalk you with Facebook and all that.  Got it?”

Kurt nodded; stunned by the amount of information flying at him so quickly.

“Right.  So, Jeff is the blond,” to which Jeff raised a hand and grinned widely.  “You will call him Link while you are in this building.  No excuses.  Nick is Moby.  You can draw your own conclusions as to why.”

Kurt watched as Nick, _Moby_ , blushed and turned around and attempted to look like he was doing inventory of the alcohol.

“When Hunter gets back, you will call him Doc.”

At that Jeff snickered and added, “To his face at least.”

“What do you mean?”

It was Nick that answered.  “Sebastian has some more colorful names he likes to throw at Hunter from time to time.  You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Kurt nodded and just accepted that he might not last long enough to learn them and didn’t particularly care at this point.  Already this job was looking like it was going to be a handful.  Adding to that was the fact that he would be receiving an unknown nickname to be addressed by, and even if it was for his own protection from rabid patrons, it didn’t sit well with him.

“Can I ask a question?”  At Sebastian’s straining nod he continued.  “Do we seriously need the nicknames?  I mean, I can take care of myself and it’s not like any of my social site stuff is public.”

“Let me put it this way,” Sebastian stated.  “The last guy that didn’t follow the rules ended up having his apartment violated twice and then had to move to Maine to escape.  He now lives under an assumed name in a lighthouse.

“Now, continuing.  You will have your own register.”  Sebastian gestured to the counter on the other side of the bar.  There were four different touch screen registers under the mirrored shelves.  “All the prices are simple and the screen recognizes almost any drink and its aliases for pricing.”

Sebastian walked behind the bar and motioned for Kurt to join him at the right middle machine.  He tapped the screen and gave Kurt his employee code for the night.  

“For now, you will be on your own.  If you can handle it later, we will give you a runner that will take orders out on the floor for you to fill and you get more tips.  The rest of the guys have two runners on most nights.”

Kurt was beginning to feel like a bobble-head doll.  Information was flying at him and he was lucky to catch it all.

“Last two rules and then you can make me a drink, Shirley.”

“Oh dear god, please don’t let that be my nickname,” Kurt mumbled.

Kurt watched as Sebastian smirked, having obviously heard him.

“Every piece of money you get goes in the drawer.  Even your tips.  It’s easier at the end of the night when you ring out to count everything at once.  And if you’re lucky, you’ll have too many tips to keep shoving them in your pockets all night.”

“Alright.  And the last one?”

“Once you walk through that door every night, you become single.  I’m not saying that you can’t have yourself a boyfriend or whatever.  But you are a product as much as the booze in this joint.  And if you have one, don’t have them come in here.  You are to appear available, but never act on it.  I can’t have some jumped-up boytoy coming in here and putting a claim on one of you guys and busting up my costumers heads.  Got it?”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Kurt said clearly.  The last relationship he had ended almost 3 years ago and he had been so busy between Vogue and auditions that even a one night stand felt like too much effort.

“Alright then Newbie.  Why don’t you make us your first drink as a Runaway.”

Kurt quickly took down four bottles, lined up four shot glasses and poured perfectly.  Every one reached for a glass and raised it.

“To tonight’s Foursome,” Kurt said as he raised his shot in salute to his coworkers for the night.  As the liquid slid smoothly down his throat he hoped that he would make it all the way through his shift without embarrassing himself and that Sebastian’s nickname wouldn’t be too bad.

* * *

Kurt was sweating bullets.  It was only 11 and he knew that whenever he finally got home tonight, he would have the biggest and most painful blisters on the back of his heels.  His Chucks were by far the most comfortable pair of shoes that he could wear to be on his feet for an indeterminate amount of time.  What he didn’t think about was the fact that he wouldn’t be standing still.

He watched as Nick and Jeff sashayed between bar top customers and their runners.  They even danced around with one another if a particular song struck a nerve with them.  Each time the duo started to dance together, regardless of the amount of people waiting for drinks, Kurt noticed their tips immediately afterwards looked like more than what was normal.  So Kurt took a small chance and just swayed a little.  Then he rocked his hips a little more in time.  If anything the movement was to keep his feet from aching.

He received tips steadily throughout the evening but he wasn’t able to stop long enough to even attempt to figure out how much he may be walking out with tonight.

The bar started to allow patrons at 8 and soon it was near capacity.  And in the 3 hours that Kurt had been a professional bartender, he managed to only spill one Long Island Ice Tea and turn a strawberry daiquiri into a margarita when he added tequila instead of rum, which the customer didn’t seem to notice.  He thought that if he kept to making less than one mistake an hour for his first night, then maybe he would be allowed to come back next week and be on the payroll.

* * *

Kurt watched as Sebastian walked out from his office with a microphone and fiddled with a switch near his office door.  The music in the bar lowered and he climbed onto the bar top.

“Good evening everyone,” Sebastian said majestically.  He spread his arms in welcome and gave a small bow to raucous cheers.  His face beamed at the sound of his happy patrons.  Then he turned to Kurt and his smile turned into another one of his condescending smirks.

“I’m sure you have noticed that Doc is missing tonight.”

This received a chorus of ‘awe’s and ‘where is he?’s before Sebastian waved off the crowd so he didn’t have to yell into the mic.

“I know, I know.  You love him.”  More cheers.

“But who am I to deny you all some fresh blood every once in a while?”  Even more cheers.

Sebastian gestured for Kurt to climb up beside him.  “This ladies, gents and all those in middle, is…” he paused and looked Kurt up and down as if trying to find the best name for him.  He then made a motion with his hand for Kurt to do a spin, which he complied with to a roar of his own cheers.

The smile on Sebastian’s face grew exponentially before he interrupted the crowd.

“This is Temple.  Please worship him appropriately!”  And with that the customers cheered again.  They both climbed off the bar and Sebastian disappeared into his office again before turning the music back up to full blast and the crowd surged against the bar to try to get _Temple_ ’s attention.

Kurt didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered.  On one hand, he had a bar full of eligible and attractive guys trying to hit on him and _worship_ him as suggested because of the new nickname.  But he knew that on Sebastian’s part, it was just a jab.  At his young looking face, the fact that he probably thought of Kurt as an uptight prude, and who even knew what else.  And it stung just a little more than he thought it would.

* * *

 

If there was ever a time that Kurt Hummel wished that he owned a pair of flip-flops, now was it.  Moreover, he wished that he had them in his bag so that he could peel off his shoes and soaked socks and wear them home instead of putting more pressure on what he knew was several already popped blisters.  He was thankful that he had a box of Epsom salts and a bubbling foot bath that he could use as soon as he got home.

As it was, he was perched on a barstool while counting out his register drawer.  Nick had gone through and showed Kurt how to access his sale receipt for the night and also showed him which numbers to look at to find what he owed the house for the night, explaining that everything else was his for his tips for the night since he didn’t have a runner to separate for and share tips with.

It was 3:27 and Kurt’s shoulders were slumps as he counted out twenties into neat stacks and made sure they were all facing the same way.  Sebastian had called out for ‘Last Call’ at 2:30 and there was only a small rush at the end of the night.  Thankfully, the bar emptied out pretty quickly after that.  Kurt wasn’t sure if he would make it back on the subway without falling asleep and was seriously considering using his tips and taking a cab so that he wouldn’t miss his stop.

Kurt knew that a good night of tips could start to get him out of the small financial hole he had fallen into after losing a roommate.  He double checked the amount he pulled out of his register before wrapping the bills in the printed receipt and shoving it into a standard letter size envelope.  He then sealed it and wrote his name and date on the top and tossed it over to Sebastian who was leaning against the end of the bar chatting with Frank and enjoying a beer.

Sebastian picked up the envelope and lightly tossed it up and down in his hand as if trying to gauge its weight.

“Not bad for a first night, Temple.”

“I just want to go home and get out of the shoes.  That and pray to the fashion gods that I didn’t permanently damage my favorite pair of jeans with the all the sweat and liquor I know is drowning me right now,” Kurt groaned before pulling his drawer back over to start counting out his tips.

Kurt hadn’t realized through the night how many he had collected.  Now it was staring him in the face.  Olive green bills against the stark black of the drawer.  There were still several 20’s still in their own designated slot.  His mouth started to gape.

The most he had ever gotten on a shift during his short stint as a server at that crazy Broadway diner was just over $87.  A quick thumb through of just the twenties, and Kurt knows that he just blew that number out of the water.  He can hear Nick and Jeff snickering a little at his amazement.

“I just love the look newbies get when they see their ‘first night tips’,” Jeff gushed with his hands grasped over his heart like he was having a proud mama moment.

“Is it always like this?” Kurt asked.

“No,” Nick stated simply before grinning widely.  “Tonight was a little slow.”

Kurt slowly took out all his tips and put them in another envelope and placed it carefully in the zippered pocket on the inside of his bag.  He stood gingerly and waved goodbye to everyone.  Once outside, Kurt did splurge on a cab.

When he got home that night, he would shower, set up his footbath, count his tips and know that he would definitely meet more than his minimum monthly payment on his credit card.

 

 


	2. Sours

Even after soaking his feet when he got home, Kurt found the thought of trying to walk across the loft in bare feet excruciating the next morning.  At 11 he knew he couldn’t put off getting out of bed any longer.  Nature was calling and he desperately needed some caffeine.  He put on his thickest pair of socks and his bedroom slippers to try to soften the blow to his still tender feet.

 

Shuffling his way eventually to the kitchen, he made himself the biggest cup of coffee possible.  Then since he hadn’t eaten breakfast, he settled down at the table and pulled an apple from the basket in the middle.

“Well, well, well.  Look who finally decided to join the land of the living today!” Santana chorused as she tried to open the door as best as she could with four full bags of groceries.  “Mind giving me a hand here?  Since you know, half this crap is for you too?”

Kurt groaned as he lifted himself out of his chair and hobbled his way to help Santana.  He grabbed the four bags from her as she rolled the door shut.

“Woah!  What bear got into your picnic basket last night, Booboo?  That’s a nice limp you got going on,” Santana snickered as she watched Kurt struggle to lift the bags onto the table.

“Screw you, Tana.  I’m sore as hell and I don’t think my feet will ever be the same.  I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I went to Runaways and he hired me on the spot.  I worked last night from 7 to 3ish.  I’m cranky, hungry, and not at all in the mood for your attempts to dig at me about my non-existent sex life,” Kurt spouted before taking a huge gulp of his coffee.

Santana hummed under her breath as she started to put away the groceries.

“Maybe next time you are working you need to bring home one of the hotties tipping you.  Get yourself loosened up some.”

Kurt snorted a laugh out through his nose.

“Unless they find blister-covered feet and a terrible case of swamp-ass after slinging liquor for 6 hours attractive, I’m afraid that would be a lost cause.  Besides, it’s going to be nice having the extra money to finally put some away for something instead of rushing to play catch-up.”

“Whatever floats your boat, cupcake.” 

* * *

By Monday morning, Kurt was grateful that the fashion world didn’t always keep the same schedules as the rest of the world.  He didn’t have to be in the office till 11 that morning to prepare for a luncheon meeting to finalize their plans for cohesively matching the website to the magazine’s September issue.  The idea boards had been finalized and set up; all they needed now was editor approval and everyone would head back to their desks to get ready to implement the changes that would roll out with the shelf date of the hard copies.

Kurt was always the epitome of professional couture while in the office.  Hair always coiffed, shoes perfectly shined, and accessories matched and placed precisely.

Now, he was kind of wishing that he had flubbed it a couple of times.  Just went rogue and worn some faded, comfy jeans and Converse Chucks with a nice button down and baggy-but-chic sweater combo.  But no, Kurt Hummel was and will always be immaculate in the office.  And now his legs and feet were paying the price.

Even after soaking them again twice yesterday and rubbing vitamin E/ginseng combination oil over his whole body to rejuvenate it had been all for naught.  Every third step, Kurt felt like he was walking on red hot needles.  When he had to bend down to retie his shoe, Kurt thought his thighs were being split apart by an invisible seam ripper.

Thankfully he made it to the meeting a little early and guaranteed himself an actual seat at the conference table instead of having to stand like the other members of his small team.

The meeting itself went smoothly.  All the ideas were approved; save for one that wasn’t submitted by anyone in his department.  Lunch was set up in the break room next door and they were released to enjoy it; everyone but Kurt.

“Kurt, can you hang back for a moment?” Isabelle asked.  At Kurt’s short nod and return to his chair she continued.  “Is everything alright?  You seem a little run down.  You aren’t getting that bug that blew through here last week are you?  Because if you are, then you need to go home stat.  We don’t need another outbreak.”

Kurt smiled at her concerned rambling.

“No, not at all.  I started a second job on Saturday and it put me through the paces,” Kurt started to explain but was cut off by an excited squeal from Isabelle.

“Did you nail an audition?  Who’s the director?  I better get tickets to your opening night, Mister.”

“No,” Kurt chuckled.  “But thanks for the enthusiasm!  I just picked up a second job bartending to rework my finances a little bit since Rachel moved out.  It’s not a big deal.  It just took a little more out of me than I expected.”

“Well, your group is all set for next week’s changes.”  Isabelle said, and Kurt nodded.  “So what I want you to do, is to make yourself some lunch in one of the to-go containers, go home, relax for a couple of days, and come back firing on all cylinders on Wednesday.”

“I can’t do that, Isabelle,” Kurt started.  “I have to get ready for next month’s campaigns.  The reason you like my stuff so much, is because I work on it for the whole month and not at the last minute like some people.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and let a playful smirk cross her face at knowing that the ‘some people’ Kurt casually mentioned were the same ones that had to redo their boards before the end of the day.

“And what do I keep telling you Kurt?  Quality, not quantity,” she smirked knowing that she had him cornered.  “I know you are going to work on your layout anyway.  Why not do it while in the comfort of your own space with a fluffy robe and slippers?”

Kurt sighed and offered a weak smile.  “Have I told you lately how much I love that you are my Fairy Godmother?”

“Not in the recent past.  But I know it without the reminder.  Go take care of yourself; I need you and your work at peak performance and that isn’t going to happen with you hobbling around here,” Isabelle said and promptly shooed Kurt out of the conference room.

After arriving home, Kurt reveled in taking a bath with more Epsom salt and a touch of lavender oil in an attempt to ease the ache in his sore feet and leg muscles.  He realized that Isabelle was right.  Kurt wouldn’t have been able to concentrate at the office till he eased his aches and pains.  Thankfully the long soak helped immensely.

By the time he settled into the couch with his laptop and notes for his next section, his phone pinged with an incoming text.

**(3:47PM) Sebastian:** Come in to sign your paperwork at 5pm tomorrow.  Try not to be late this time, Temple.

Kurt sighed.  The money he earned from tips on Saturday had been obscene and most welcomed, but he truly didn’t know if he would be able to stand working for a man like Sebastian.

* * *

Runaways was a mess.  There were boxes stacked haphazardly everywhere.  Kurt watched as a couple of the backing crew that he only caught glimpses of on Saturday when they were refilling his glasses, running boxes up and down the stairs.

Sebastian stood in the middle of the room with a clipboard in his hands and a pen in his mouth as he frowned and flipped back and forth through the papers attached to it.  When he glanced up, Kurt offered up a small smile and a wave before trying to make his way through the maze.

“Welcome to our bi-monthly inventory check and delivery,” Sebastian said with a grand gesture to the alcohol covering every surface of the bar, table tops and most of the floor.  His tone belied the enthusiasm of his opulent hand waves.

“Oo-oh, exciting,” Kurt offered with widened eyes and his own dull voice that caused Sebastian to chuckle under his breath.

“This is taking longer than expected since the truck was late.  If you go into my office your folder is on my desk.  Just grab that and come back out to fill out your tax paperwork and we’ll start your payroll stuff when you are done with that.  I’ll give you cash under the table for last Saturday and then you’re officially an employee.”

Kurt nodded and turned to make his way through all the boxes.  Sebastian’s office was not what he expected.  To be quite honest, Kurt wasn’t sure what a bar’s office should look like.  Maybe pictures of random alcohol companies, a couple of personal mementos on the desk, a pin board full of ‘banned for life’ persons.

Instead the room seemed to be a homage to what Kurt thought of as the two best cities in the world through personal photographs.  Some were small 5x7s in simple and cheap frames.  Others were almost full-sized posters.  Shots of Ellis Island were next to a panoramic view of the front of the Louvre.  Black and white, sepias, and full-on vibrant color prints littered nearly every available spot on the back wall.

Kurt was in awe, forgetting his main reason for coming into the space.  He was lost in the wonder of the pictures.  There was no way these were from some mass produced stock inventory.  There was too much life in each photo; tourists looking on at the sights, a random couple in the foreground shot of a café somewhere, a glimpse of litter in a street.  They were real.  And to Kurt, one of the most beautiful representations of life he had ever seen in photographs.

He must have been in the office for longer than he thought when Sebastian nudged him on his own way to his desk.  Sebastian then stared Kurt down as he picked up the file located in the center of his mess free desk and pointedly handed it to Kurt.

Kurt flushed and started to make apologies to Sebastian, only to be brushed off and told to go to the bar to fill out his paper work.  He finished quickly and brought the papers back into Sebastian a short while later.

“I just wanted to apologize for lingering in your office earlier.  It was rude.  I just couldn’t help myself.  Your photos are amazing,” Kurt gushed as Sebastian eyed him quietly.

“Right.  Well, here is your pay for Saturday,” Sebastian started without acknowledging Kurt’s apology.  “We only pay the state minimum wage because your tips more than make up for it if you do your job well.  Are you still willing to be a _Runaway_?”

At Kurt’s nod Sebastian continued.

“Perfect.  You work Saturdays from 7 to close.  I’ll put you in for more shifts later if you want but Saturday is the most important for right now.  Let me know when you can’t work as soon as possible.  Any questions?”  Kurt shook his head slowly and accepted the envelope Sebastian thrust his way.  “Good.  Now get out of here.  And be on time.”

Kurt walked out of Runaways slightly dazed.  Sebastian had thrown him for a mental loop so fast he was sure he was going to be suffering from whiplash.

He quickly tried to shake it off.  Kurt only had to be around the man once a week for the next few months until he caught up from having to change his monthly spending habits.  He wasn’t nearly in the hole as much as some people could be in New York.

Figuring how much he made in tips last week, Kurt knew he would only have to work for Sebastian for approximately 3 months and he would have caught up and saved enough to make his savings account look like it did before him and his roommates decided to renovate their loft.

 


	3. Shirley Temple

Kurt watched Nick and Jeff dancing around each other again the next Saturday.  He wondered if they were together and how they managed that with Sebastian’s weird rule to never be available.  It didn’t really make sense to him, but he had to figure it out at some point.

The next thing Kurt saw was Jeff spinning a little with a bottle of amber liquid in one hand behind his head and a silver tumbler behind his lower back.  The alcohol flowed in a steady stream straight into the cup to the applause of the people at the bar.  Jeff tipped the bottle up first then pulled the cup from behind his hip.

Another bottle made its way into Jeff’s hand that was flipped through the air to him by Nick.  Several gasps were heard as the bottle flipped end over end.  Kurt even felt his own mouth hanging open.  It was all he could do to make sure that he didn’t over pour his shots, much less flip a damn bottle.  He made another note to himself to ask the guys if they could teach him some tricks as well as the information about the rules.

Jeff’s smile was wide as he finished shaking the drink and pouring it by barely cracking the seam between the glasses over a row of shot glasses.  He received cheers and, from what Kurt could see, a pretty big tip.

 _Yep, definitely asking how to do that,_ Kurt thought.

* * *

“Hey guys,” Kurt started after the last drink for last call had been served.  “Can I ask you something kind of personal?”

Nick and Jeff looked up from where they were replacing clean glasses into the racks near the bar at their stations.  Both nodded without looking at each other and Kurt had to smile at it.

“Are you two together?” he whispered.

The smiles that broke out on both of their faces were answer enough for Kurt.

“How is that allowed?  I mean, I thought that we were supposed to ‘be single when we walked through the door’ or something like that?” Kurt asked.

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to Sebastian who had once again taken up his seat at the end of the bar with a ledger for the night’s paperwork in explanation to the confused looks he received.  Apparently he wasn’t as quiet as he thought when Sebastian himself answered.

“What I meant, was that I don’t care what you do, as long as it doesn’t end up leading to a fight in my bar.”  Sebastian didn’t even bother to lift his head up from his calculator as he punched in another set of numbers.

“So you don’t mind if we date in house or outside, just don’t let them see us work?”  Kurt wanted to make sure he had everything crystal clear.  He didn’t plan on dating anyone he worked with.  It didn’t end well the first time he had tried it and he wasn’t too keen to repeat the experience.

“Pretty much.” Sebastian droned out.

Kurt smiled to himself before turning back to the bartending couple.

“Okay then.  Next questions.  How long did it take you to learn how to do that behind the back thing, and can you teach me?”

“Oh that!  That took me about a month before I could do it without getting my back drenched regularly,” Jeff said over Nick’s fit of giggles.  “And don’t pay any attention to Moby.  It took him six months before he could fling at bottle without breaking it against the bar.”

At that Nick’s giggles stopped and he pouted at his boyfriend while the rest of the employees still around laughed raucously.  There was only one small group of people left in the bar but they were looking like they were on the way out.  Especially if their lingering at the door was any clue.

“That’s not including all the dummy bottles he ended up wasting either,” Sebastian added from his perch which brought on another round of laughter at Nick’s expense.

“That’s alright.  I’m sure it’s harder than it looks.  I mean, it’s probably something that one needs to keep up with to be able to do it, right?  So I doubt some of us here have any right to laugh at you,” Kurt quipped with a slightly snotty smile towards his boss.  Sebastian’s constant condescending attitude was grating on Kurt’s nerves.

Sebastian barely lifted his head up and glued his eyes straight at Kurt.  “Come again?”

“I was just wondering out loud really,” he replied nonchalantly.  “Surely, even someone as… experienced as you, would have some trouble getting back into the grove of flinging bottles like that.  When was the last time you were clamoring for tips and had to prove yourself?”

There was a chorus of ‘ooh’s and several dropped jaws at Kurt’s last question.  It was apparent that no one ever really called Sebastian out on his ‘I’m better than you in every way’ attitude.

“What’s the stakes?” Sebastian asked as he stood.

“Excuse me?”

“What do I get out of this?  If I fail, then I get laughed at and you proved your point Temple.  So what are you going to offer me to make this worth my time to wipe with floor with you and your smart mouth?”

“I don’t know.  I’ll work next week without pay and give half my tips to the house?”

Sebastian hummed with a slight smirk as he sauntered over to his office and fiddled with the sound system.  Soon a remix of older classic rock songs started to filter lowly into the bar.

“I don’t really want you to give up your money Kurt,” Sebastian said.  “I much rather prefer a lesson in humility.  If I can flare without making an ass of myself, I want you to admit that you are a lowly peasant and could never be worthy of my awesomeness.”

Kurt’s mouth hung open in shock.  There was no way that Sebastian could be serious.

“Oh, I’m serious,” Sebastian stated, and _crap, did I say that out loud?_  “If you get the chance to humiliate me, I reserve the right to do the same to you.  I think that’s pretty fair.  Just be thankful I’m not making you dress in drag for your next shift.  Do we have a bet?”

* * *

Kurt watched as Sebastian started to set up to perform some flairs.  He pulled out several Boston shakers and grouped them up along with pulling down some bottles that were a little less than half full.  Next he grabbed a couple of the plastic juice containers and set them and a garnish rack in place.

Sebastian tilted his head and listened to the low playing music for a moment.  Kurt assumed that he remembered the order of his playlist and was waiting for the next song before he got started.

“Better get yourself a front row seat there Temple.  I wouldn’t want you to miss part of the show because you are hanging out on the sidelines,” Sebastian said.

Kurt huffed a small laugh and joined the other employees that had already made their way to the front side of the bar.  He then heard the front door’s lock clicked closed and saw Frank make his way beside them as well.

The song came to an end and the next one started up with a fast guitar intro that bounced back and forth and the tap of symbols.  Kurt watched as Sebastian picked up a silver shaker and spun it long-ways in the palm of his right hand.  He had a small smile on his face.

Every time the shaker came around Sebastian would temporarily stop it before spinning it faster and faster each time.  Soon he didn’t stop it at all.  He kept flexing his hand and wrist to keep it spinning on its own.

The vocals of the song shouted ‘Thunder’ over and over and Sebastian bounced the shaker one time against the palm of his hand to make it airborn.  By the time the bass line of the song started Sebastian was balancing the spinning tumbler on his middle finger and smirking at Kurt.

Kurt rolled his eyes at his boss’ pettiness.  He certainly hoped that he was never asked to try to do that.  He would be the first to admit that he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Sebastian then reached over and grabbed a bottle by its speed pour top.  He hooked it securely between his index and middle finger and moved it in a wide figure eight twice before bringing the bottle and the shaker together and pouring a 3-count into it.

He exchanged tumblers while bringing the bottle down to his hip and flicking his wrist and hunching his shoulders.  The bottle sailed behind Sebastian’s back and over his shoulder before it landed into the new shaker and it too got a 3-count pour.

All the employees cheered, even Kurt.  He knew that a blind catch like that had to take skill.

Sebastian put the bottle down and grabbed the juice container next.  Kurt watched as he simply poured a double measure into a fresh shaker.  No thrills, no flairing.  It didn’t make any sense to Kurt what he was doing, unless Sebastian was actually making a real set of drinks.

Kurt saw Sebastian take the juice laden shaker along with another empty one.  Kurt knew that someone could easily swing an open container without spilling it if they did it fast enough.  Anyone who took a basic physical science class in high school had seen their crazy teacher take the class outside to swing buckets full of water over their heads.  But Kurt was fairly certain that wasn’t what was going to happen.

Sebastian spun the empty shaker end over end.  He then brought the two together and started to move them up towards the ceiling.  With a quick jerk of his arms, Sebastian stilled the shakers and let the juice fly into the air.  The still clean shaker moved into place effortlessly and caught all the juice as it streaming back down to more cheers.

Kurt’s mouth had started to hang open watching Sebastian as he picked up more bottles after setting down the juice-filled shakers.  When Sebastian started flipping and tossing two bottles together he winked at Kurt and caused him to snap his mouth shut once more.

The rest of the employees were all clapping in beat to the song in the background and singing along in the case of Nick and Jeff.  Soon Sebastian grabbed a third bottle and it seemed like the whole show was leading up to this point.

Sebastian simply juggled the bottles like an average circus performer.  The tosses were clean and even, but Kurt couldn’t make anything special out of it.  Then it happened.

He watched as Sebastian started to toss two bottles solely with his left hand.  The bottles went high into the air, much higher than he was originally sending them.  The time between each catch became a little more spaced apart.  Then the third bottle came zooming in with Sebastian’s right hand over his head.

He circled the third bottle like a helicopter over and over in between passes of the juggled bottles.  Nothing clanked together.  It was all perfectly smooth.  Everyone’s jaws were hanging open in awe.

Sebastian caught the tumbling bottles in one hand and swiftly lined up three martini glasses on the bar top.  He moved quickly and efficiently pouring another 3-count and separating the juice into the three alcohol filled shakers.  He nestled them inside each other and added a fourth as a ‘lid’.

The shakers hovered over the glasses as Sebastian forced them into a curved shape and the mixed concoction flowed evenly into all three glasses.

Sebastian then moved to grab a lowball glass and filled it with ice and lemon-lime soda.  He then poured a small splash of grenadine in as well and Kurt shot him a glare at what was going on.  The last move was Sebastian pretending to be a basketball player and ‘shooting’ cherries into every glass in front of him.

He pushed one to Jeff and Nick, another over to Frank and a runner came up to grab the third martini glass.  Sebastian then started to push the Shirley Temple over to Kurt with a smirk but stopped just short, almost like he was forgetting something.

Kurt saw Sebastian then reach into the garnish tray one more time and plunked an obscene amount of cherries into the glass.  It was enough to almost make it start to overflow onto the bar.

“Here you go.  A Shirley Temple with extra cherries,” Sebastian said like he was awfully proud of his own joke.

Kurt forced a put-upon smile on his face before addressing his boss.

“You’re an asshole.  You know that?”

Everyone at the bar howled with laughter.

* * *

Kurt sat down Sunday afternoon with all his bills for the month once more.  He had worked the Saturday night shift at Runaways for 4 weeks now and was looking to see where his ends met and what he could put into savings for the month.

Having his rent increase 50% was huge.  Especially when all the former roommates had agreed that they finally needed to put real walls up in the loft right before Rachel moved out.  Most of Kurt’s savings went into the joint project.  Now there was an unoccupied room in the loft that just held extra boxes of both his and Santana’s clothes and random seasonal things for the apartment.

Both he and Santana were adamant about keeping the loft to just themselves.  After so long together, they didn’t want to bring a new person yet.

 _At least they found each other and are happy,_ Kurt thought.  He would give anything to find someone like that for himself.  Someone who he could share everything about himself.  Sure, he had had relationships in the past, not to mention a couple of quick flings.  But nothing had resonated.  He was still searching.  He was also a little bit jealous of Santana and Dani’s relationship.  Since they met just over seven months ago, the two were almost inseparable.

Looking at his bills, Kurt was beginning to wonder if he ever would meet someone that he could share everything with.  From laughing at ridiculous rom-coms to arguing over who was supposed to pay the gas bill this month.  Then another thought hit him.  It was his turn for the gas bill this month too!

Kurt went back and adjusted all of his numbers and pulled up his bank account on his laptop.  He grinned when he saw the numbers.  All of his bills this month could be taken care of.  Kurt was definitely paying more on his credit card than the minimum and he still had enough to transfer over $500 into his savings account.

He sighed in relief.  Kurt was still hoping to be able to make it home this year for Christmas; something he hadn’t been able to do for the last two years. If everything kept going like this, he would be able to take at least a week off work at Vogue to go home without having to ask his dad for any help getting there!   

 


	4. Tequila Shots

Kurt now understood why Nick and Jeff chuckled about Hunter’s nicknames that came from Sebastian when he wasn’t paying attention.  The guy was, for lack of a better word, a douche.  He barely introduced himself to Kurt, if it could even be called that.

_"Hunter Clarington, it’s ‘Doc’ behind the bar.  And I’m not even remotely bi-curious.”_

_Who even does that?_ Kurt thought.  They all worked at a gay bar/nightclub.  They were essentially paid to flirt with the customers to get better tips and serve more alcohol.  To top it off, Kurt got to see Hunter and Sebastian go back and forth over why they didn’t have a massive wine selection for the costumers.  It wasn’t how Kurt wanted his night to start.

Five weeks in and he had finally gotten the hang of having a runner by the end of his last shift and he didn’t want a pissy Sebastian to deal with if he had more questions about it during his shift.  Hunter just wouldn’t let up.

“I don’t get it, Sebastian.  Don’t you want to make money?”

“Look _Doc_.  If you think we need more expansion of our wine list then why don’t you just make a note of every time someone asks for something we don’t have?”  Sebastian waved his arm towards the bar.  “In fact, all of you do that tonight.  I guarantee you, it’s not as ‘in demand’ as you seem to think it is.  It’s _my_ bar, Doc.  Stick to your bones and joints and I’ll stick with my Jack and Jim.”

Kurt could hear Nick and Jeff groaning over having to tally orders tonight.  He would have too, if he hadn’t been trying to hear what Sebastian was muttering under his breath has he moved towards his office.  Luckily, he caught enough of the end to make him chuckle and draw everyone’s attention to him.

_“…only been back three days and he’s trying to push my buttons again.  Pretentious asswaffle.”_

At Hunter’s questioning looking, Kurt just smiled and went back to setting up his station for the night.

* * *

The end of the night turns into a free for all of picking on Hunter while counting out cash drawers.

Hunter spent the entirety of his night trying to convince his bar customers to try some wine or a new cocktail.  It didn’t go well.  He had finished his drawer earlier and was still trying to get the rest of the guys to side with him against Sebastian.  That didn’t go well either.

“Doc, just give it up man,” Nick said while still thumbing through bills at the bar.

“The only thing I got all night was someone wanting diet ginger ale with their Amaretto and all we had was regular,” Jeff added.  “What about you Kurt?”

“Nothing.”

With that, Hunter took his meager tips for the night and left after dropping his envelope off to Sebastian who was wearing a triumphant smirk.

“So…” Kurt said turning to face Sebastian after making sure the door shut completely behind Hunter.  “Asswaffle?”

Nick and Jeff promptly began to snicker which quickly turned into huge belly-laughs at the insult.

“That’s a new one, Seb,” Nick said while trying to keep himself and Jeff from falling onto the floor with their fits of laughter.

“Okay.  Now I have to know.  What all has he called him before?”

Sebastian said nothing as he continued going over his evening master report.

“Dillweed was really popular when Doc first started,” Jeff supplied.

“Asshat,” Nick volunteered like they were reading from a well-established list.

“Cock-biting fuckwad was my favorite,” Frank offered in is deep and smooth voice.

Kurt watched as every insult made Sebastian’s smile grow a little bigger.  It was almost like he prided himself on finding the simplest compound words to describe the arrogance that was Hunter.

“At the rate he’s going since he got back, I’m going to need some new ones soon,” Sebastian noted still not taking his eyes off his papers.

“Dick whiff,” Kurt said before he could check his own brain-to-mouth filter.

Several pairs of eyes darted to him, including Sebastian’s.

“That’s a possibility.  Got any others?”

“Um…”  Kurt looked to the ceiling of the bar like it would spell out the words for him.  “Crotch jockey.  Fuck noodle. And... sphincter socket.”

Silence rang throughout the bar after Kurt finished for a few moments.  Then suddenly everyone was clutching their stomachs and gasping for air between bouts of laughter.

“Yep, we are definitely keeping you around Temple,” Sebastian said fondly with a wink before disappearing into his office.

And Kurt, well he smiled to himself at the compliment to his sharp tongue and rapier wit.

* * *

As September came to a close, Runaways’ business fluctuated severely; as did Sebastian’s mood.

Jeff explained the bar aspect of it to Kurt one night while they were counting their takes.

“Every year it happens.  School starts and all the kids bounce back and forth on whether they want to buckle down at the beginning of the year or blow themselves out and catch up later.”

Kurt remembered that dilemma as he had only graduated 3 years ago and the memories were still fresh.  He fell in the middle of the two.  He didn’t push himself to be perfect, but he definitely didn’t waste his nights away in a drunken stupor like he had seen several other college-aged guys doing while at the bar.

Sebastian was another matter altogether.  His mood didn’t seem to correlate with bad business.  It was completely random ever since the insult exchange 4 weeks ago.

Some days, Sebastian would stand behind the bar with them while chatting to a couple of regular patrons.  He would throw insult ideas around with Kurt and offer ridiculous winks or smiles in his direction.  Sometimes there would even be a casual arm slung over his shoulders as he told a story to Kurt as he shook the contents of a large tumbler for drinks.  On others he would close off in his office and snap at anyone that asked him questions.  The whole situation was beyond awkward.

Kurt couldn’t make heads or tails out of it.  Neither could anyone at Runaways, though there were theories as to why.  Everything from jokingly suggesting the anniversary of Sebastian losing his soul in a deal with the devil to solemnly guessing the anniversary of a lost loved one.  Not even Frank, who had been working for Sebastian since he opened the place, knew for certain.

Nick and Jeff quietly shared their additional ideas discreetly to Kurt one night by asking if Kurt was involved with Sebastian after a night of his subtle touches and flirty smiles.  Kurt kindly shot them down, stating that nothing has ever or would ever happen between them.  He had his own rules outside of what Sebastian expected of them at the bar.  Highest among them was to never get involved romantically or sexually with anyone at work.  Regardless of if they were an as-yet-unjaded and bright-eyed model or his ridiculously sexy and brooding boss from a bar.

Because awkwardness took up a permanent residence in Kurt’s life, he knew things weren’t going to be kept simple with the grow attraction he felt for Sebastian.  Nick and Jeff took pity on him and invited him over to their place the next day to detox from the crazy Saturday crowd they finished serving.  Kurt was grateful for the distraction, especially since Santana had taken to interrogating him on his dealings with the enigmatic bar owner.

* * *

 

 

“So what did you guys have in mind for today?” Kurt asked as he plopped down onto the overstuffed sofa in Nick and Jeff’s small living room.

Shortly after working at Runaways, Kurt realized that the overt flirting and dancing the pair did together to rile up the costumers was mutually beneficial.  They never showed their true relationship on the floor for several reasons other than the rules Sebastian had set.  And from what Kurt could see, the two of them were just as strong of a couple as Dani and Santana.

The pair had a nice apartment in a much better part of Brooklyn than he did.  Nicely painted walls were covered in framed photos of the two of them together.  The furniture all matched and was super comfortable.  And the little bit of the kitchen that Kurt could see from the couch was pristine and fairly updated.

“Well, one thing we will not be doing is discussing Sebastian or Runaways.  We don’t bring that place home with us,” Nick said as he settled into a recliner and Jeff crawled into his lap afterwards.

“Sounds fair enough to me,” Kurt said with a relieved chuckle.  “So you guys have a really nice place.  What do you do outside of the-place-that-must-not-be-named?”

“Nick is a medical assistant and trained phlebotomist for a local clinic,” Jeff beamed with pride.

“And Jeff does stock modeling.”

Kurt whistled lowly in awe of the couple.  Both with two jobs obviously head over heels for each other, and not a hint of jealousy anywhere.

“Well, we can’t all be interns-turned-assistant-feature-editor of Vogue dot com,” Nick smirked.

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows.  He hadn’t shared any of his life outside of the bar to anyone aside from answering the pair’s question about him and Sebastian last night.

“I might have been a little nosy and looked at your file in Sebastian’s office one day,” Jeff said with a small blush on his cheeks.

“I… You… huh?  Why?” Kurt sputtered.

“I didn’t mean anything malicious, I swear,” Jeff exclaimed.  “We just wanted an in to a conversation with you.  You never talk about yourself at work.  I know we are busy most of the time but even when we close out, you are really reserved.”

“Unless you are throwing out insult ideas,” Nick added.

“I thought Frank was going to die when you said ‘pompous prick-goblin’,” Jeff chuckled.

“Yeah,” Kurt allowed.  “That was a good one.  And don’t worry; I’m not mad at you.  I was just surprised.  That’s all.”

“Good,” Jeff said.  “Because we like you and want you to stick around for a while.”

“You definitely make it more entertaining,” Nick said.

Kurt couldn’t help but feel thankful for the new friendship he knew was going to be strong between him and the couple.

* * *

**Santana:**  Are you working tonight?

**Kurt:**  Is it Saturday?

**Santana:**  Alright, no need to get your undies in a twist Lucille.

**Kurt:**  Why?  Did you need me to do something?

**Santana:**  No.  Just wanted to know if the apartment would be empty.  Dani wants to come over tonight.

**Kurt:**  Have at it.  Just please have clothes on by the time I get home.

**Santana:**  What time do you think you will be home?

**Kurt:**  If it’s a good night?  3-ish?  If we are slow we will probably close up early and I will be home by 2.

**Santana:**  If you are that early, I make no promises about clothing ;)

**Kurt:**  Just keep it to your room this time.

**Santana** :  Again, no promises…

**Kurt:**  TMI, Satan, TMI 

* * *

Kurt was pissed.  He had never wanted to slap someone as much as he wanted to slap Chandler tonight.  No amount of former companionship/fling was worth the possibility of getting chewed out by his boss and losing his job over; especially one that paid as well as the tips from Runaways.  Now he was out close to three hundred bucks because the hyperactive blond couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

_The place is packed.  And Kurt is kind of happy about it.  One reason being that it means that he will have plenty of tips to add to his savings/going home fund.  Another being that he won’t have to witness any naked female shenanigans taking place in the common area of the loft._

_He’s got a good runner tonight, Wes.  They are killing it.  Not a single order wrong and the flow is steady.  Tips are pouring in too.  It’s only 9:30 and Kurt is sure that he already has close to $75 in tips waiting for him to take home._

_Kurt dances with Jeff and Nick behind the bar and tries to ignore Hunter’s muttering about the patrons when his back is turned._

_Sometimes he wonders why Hunter took this job when it is obvious to everyone who works with him that he doesn’t really like flirting with other guys.  Hunter can do it, of that there is no doubt.  The flipside is having to hear him cursing the fact that his cheeks hurt from the strained smile he wears or the headache he gets from having to hear the same pick-up lines over and over._

_Kurt is also exchanging polite conversation with Sebastian tonight.  Gone is the moody man from last week.  Tonight he is fun and full of life and seems more like Kurt’s age than his own of 38; something Kurt learned of a while back._

_Sebastian is touching him on the shoulder and even mixing a few drinks himself behind the bar, just lending a hand and a small smile.  And the smile is the most genuine that Kurt has ever seen it.  He likes it much better than the sardonic smirk Sebastian wears when dealing with rude or belligerent customers.  It’s definitely better than the cold frown he wears just before locking himself in his office when he is having a bad day._

_Then the world decides to throw Kurt a lemon right into his eye.  A familiar voice that’s a little too excitable is trying to get his attention and calling him by the wrong name given his current location._

_“Kurt?  Oh my goodness!  Kurt!  It is you!”_

_Kurt stops instantly in his progress of reaching for a new bottle of Jack above his head to turn quickly to try and hush his admirer.  He sees a floppy mop of blonde hair and huge eyes behind tortoise shell glasses and groans internally.  He doesn’t want to deal with this tonight._

_“The name’s Temple,” Kurt says directly to Chandler.  “What can I get for you?”_

_“What?  No-,” Chandler shakes his head, clearly confused by what Kurt is try to express to him with his words or pointed glare._

_“Can I get you a drink?” Kurt tries again to subtly move things along and convince Chandler that now is not the time or place for this conversation._

_“What are you doing back there Kurt?  You should be on Broadway by now.  Off-Broadway at the very least.  Your final showcase was breathtaking.”_

_Kurt can feel his shoulders slumping in defeat.  He can also feel Sebastian’s eye shooting daggers into his back.  Any moment now, he knows that there is going to be a scene if he doesn’t get Chandler to back off and let it drop._

_“Chandler, now isn’t the time.  If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow.  But for now, why don’t you let_ Temple _make a drink for you?” Kurt tries to appease his former fling and stressing his nickname._

_Kurt feels a hand clamp down on his shoulder, but it isn’t the light and friendly touch he had experienced earlier.  He looks over his shoulder and instantly regrets it.  Sebastian looks pissed._

_“Trouble, Temple?” he asks._

_“What the hell is a temple?  Kurt, seriously!  What in the hell are you doing working in a dive like this?” Chandler continues and starts to make a scene._

_“I don’t care what you do, but get him out of here now,” Sebastian’s voice hisses in his ear.  “I’ll close out your register and let Wes know.  You can pick up your tips on Tuesday.”_

_Kurt narrows his eyes at Chandler and causes the blond to shrink in on himself slightly.  He reaches into the cupboard under his register and grabs his jacket and messenger bag.  After a few taps on the computer screen, he is logged out for the night and his tally will be saved for someone, most likely Sebastian, to figure out later._

_He feels bad for Wes.  They were on their way to making some serious cash tonight and now his over-excitable friend has screwed that up for them._

_Kurt grabs Chandler by his upper arm and forces him outside the bar with him.  Once in the slightly chill September air, Kurt shrugs on his jacket and puts the full strength of his bitch glare onto Chandler._

_“What do you think you are doing?”_

_“I was just trying to figure out what you were doing in there Kurt.”_

_“Don’t you get it?” Kurt starts walking away from the door and motioning for the blond to follow.  “I work there you idiot.  We use nicknames, which I hinted at over and over, but you were too busy wetting your pants to pay attention.”_

_“What happened to you Kurt?  You were never this mean before,” Chandler asks.  And yeah, Kurt is starting to feel bad for taking out on the poor guy._

_“I needed some extra cash.  I’m not doing drugs, I’m not homeless, I just want to be able to take a week off for Christmas and catch up on some bills.  That’s all.  We go by nicknames in there for a reason.”  Kurt looks and Chandler and finds that he doesn’t seem to believe him.  He sighs.  “Apparently the last guy that didn’t, ended up getting stalked and had to move out of state.  It’s a safety thing and it makes everyone more comfortable.  Didn’t you notice everyone else’s names being called behind the bar?  Doc.  Moby.  Link.  Not really legitimate names, ya know?”_

_Kurt hopes that he gets it now.  It’s not like he has given up on his dreams.  He has just had to put them on hold for a bit to play catch-up.  This isn’t the end of the world for him, just a pit stop.  He’s still upset that he is losing out on some major money tonight, but he can’t have everyone and their brother finding out that he works here._

_“I just don’t understand, Kurt.  Why go through all this?  Your dad would surely help you out if you need it?”_

_And that does it.  He can’t stand here and try to rationalize his decisions to someone he hasn’t seen in two years.  Especially since said person just cost him upwards to $300._

_“You don’t need to understand, Chandler!  A good job is a good job,  and this one is.  But instead, I’m out here trying to explain to you something that you don’t want to understand.  Just do me a favor and keep your mouth shut for once.”_

_And then he walks away. Kurt is pretty sure that there is actual steam coming out of his ears.  The last thing he wants to deal with is an old, out of touch friend while trying to make heads or tails of his attraction to his boss._

Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket.  A quick glance tells him it’s only 10:17.  A heavy sigh passed through his lips.  He didn’t want to have to text Santana and have her cut her time with Dani short.  Unfortunately it’s a moot point.

**Kurt:**  On my way home.  Sorry.

He got no response before heading down the stairs to the catch the next train home.  As soon as he had a signal again, his phone beeped with a new message.

**Santana:**  What the hell?  It’s not even 11.

**Kurt:** Trust me, I know.  I’m pissed.  Will cake be a good enough peace offering?

He knew that he wouldn’t get the instant sympathy that Rachel would have showered him with from Santana.  The least he can do though was try to bribe it out of her.

**Santana:**  Make it marble cake with chocolate buttercream frosting and you got a deal.

He wasn’t being bitched out in Spanish yet, so he would take it.

* * *

Kurt walked into the loft feeling like a beaten, wet cloth.  Thankfully Santana seemed to understand through his short texts that he was not in the mood to be harassed and sent Dani home.  She simply let him plop down into his favorite chair and poured him a glass of red wine while he kicked of his shoes.

“You wanna tell Auntie Snixx what happened?  Or do you just want to forget and gorge ourselves with cake and wine?”

Kurt let out a half-hearted chuckle and was soon describing the whole scene with Chandler while gulping his wine greedily.

“You know, I never understood the attraction between the two of you,” Santana said around a mouthful of cake.

“It wasn’t attraction.”

“Then what was it?  He never seemed like your cup of tea.”

“More like my tenth shot of tequila,” Kurt snorted causing Santana to choke on her cake.

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Chandler and I met at a big gathering of musical theater majors from a bunch of New York schools,” Kurt started; reveling in being able to tell a story.  “We became sort of friends, reminiscing over growing up in the mid-west.  He was from somewhere in bum-fuck Indiana, I don’t remember where.

“Things were just really causal.  We would meet up and hang out when there was a gathering or party.  Just a friendly face, ya know.  I could tell he wanted more, but I didn’t want anything since it was our last year of school and everyone was pushing so hard.  Then after midterms of our last semester there was a blowout party, drinking was involved and I said ‘fuck it’.

“It was fun and he understood that’s all I wanted and that was it.  We tried a couple of dates after graduating and it didn’t work out.  I guess, he didn’t feel the same,” Kurt finished with a shrug.

Santana nodded along with Kurt’s story and absorbed as much as possible.  The wine was starting to affect both of them.

“Well, you just let me know if  Auntie Snixx needs to come out and play,” she offered.

Soon after, both of them cleaned up their small mess of plates and wine glasses and threw away an empty cake box.  Kurt hoped that Chandler would do as he asked and stay quiet.  He wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Runaways just yet.

 


	5. American Apple Pie

The office was a small madhouse a few weeks later.  Every department was coming up with ideas for fresh holiday themes for their November releases.

Normally Kurt loved working with the magazine side of Vogue.  Except preluding the holidays.  He would rather stick smoldering forks in his eyes then.  Everyone was uptight and frantic.  Ideas were shot down extremely fast, some well within reason _(Who really wears swants out in public, people?)_

With a few carefully whispered thoughts in the right ears, Kurt’s idea of party attire grew into a huge monster.  They decided to feature several different types of parties that friends and family would attend.  Each party would have appropriate conversation tips, attire ideas and host/hostess gift ideas.

Kurt received several well needed pats on the back for his idea.  Isabelle even said that it was probably the best idea he had ever had.  To which he replied that fashion was always evolving, and only the strongest survive.  Isabelle let out a great peal of laughter at that and hugged him fiercely.

Amongst all the crazy Halloween decorations on the street corners, Vogue was a flurry of holly, fake snow, and red velvet.  Sets were built for the shoots to accompany the articles and racks of clothes were pulled from vendors.

Kurt was energized in a completely new way.  Although he wasn’t in charge of all the shoots, this was his idea that was coming to fruition and he would get to run at least one of them.  Then everything decided to go to hell in a handbasket.

He was walking into the staging area for the day and marveled at all the lights and settings for this particular party.  They were shooting the ‘close friends’ party this morning.  Models were moving from hair and make-up to fittings to singular shots on a white wall.

Then he counted the models.  Seven.  There were supposed to be 8.  Four couples were supposed to be having a good time being merry and Kurt only saw three and a spare.

Carly came up to him, breathless and worried.  “We lost a model.  He broke his leg last night.  And no one has anyone we can get this short of notice.  We have to do it with an odd number.”

She seemed so apologetic about it.  Kurt knew that it this wouldn’t make or break him with Vogue, but he didn’t want to explain how his photos didn’t match what the articles were planning on saying.  He excused himself from Carly quickly and thumbed through his phone.

* * *

**Kurt:** Please tell me you are available for the next 4-6 hours?

**Jeff:**  As flattered as I am Kurt, I am in a happy relationship :)

**Kurt:**  Being a smart ass isn’t a good look on you.  Answer the question please.

**Jeff:**  Yeah, I’m free.  What did you need?

**Kurt:**  I need you at the Conde Nast building in less than an hour.  Please make sure you are showered and shaved.  Take a cab and let me know when you are close.  I will pay for it.

**Jeff:**  I will be there soon.  And no need for a taxi.  I can get there just as fast on the train.  Leaving now.

**Kurt:**  Thanks so much.  You are a life saver!

**Jeff:**  Yeah, yeah.  I figure out what you owe me later.

* * *

Kurt put in for his time off for Christmas at the beginning of November after all the shoots were completed.  Isabelle was more than accommodating since his idea had launched what would be the first time in quite a while that the magazine and website were so spectacularly decked out for the holidays.  Jeff even said that Kurt didn’t need to pay him back for harassing him into helping him at the last minute since he had gotten paid and was offered a shoot for a designer in the February issue too.  But Kurt wouldn’t take no for an answer.  Jeff had saved his butt big time and Kurt really needed to pay him back personally.

He was starting to feel like things were slotting into place.  He had a great place to live and a great job under Isabelle.  The money he made working at Runaways had covered his debts and he was actually in the black by a lot.  He couldn’t wait to call his dad to let him know he would be home for Christmas.

* * *

**Jeff:**  Hey remember how I said you didn’t need to pay me back for the photo shoot thing?

**Kurt:**  Yeah…?

Kurt was thankful that he would finally be able to do something for the blond.  He hated being in anyone’s debt, even a friend’s.

**Jeff:**  Ronnie was supposed to cover for me tomorrow night so Nick and I could celebrate our anniversary…

**Jeff:**  But his kid is sick and throwing up everywhere.  I know its late notice, but would you be able to cover for me?

**Kurt:**  Absolutely!  I need to make up for the night that Chandler caused me to have to leave early.

**Jeff:**  Thank you thank you thank you!

Kurt laughed at Jeff’s enthusiasm.  Even through a text message, Kurt could always tell he was excited and smiling like a loon.

* * *

Runaways on a Friday night was not all that different from Saturday.  He still worked beside Hunter.  Tonight though, his usual runner Wes was behind the bar along with a dark skinned guy named David.

The customers were basically the same type of crowd that he saw too.  He didn’t see any of his regulars but by the way some of customers acted with the staff, he knew that he was the newbie tonight.  It had been a while since he had felt that way.

Sebastian hadn’t been too shocked to see him when he walked in at 6:30 that night.  He had changed before he left Vogue because he knew that he wouldn’t have time to stop back by the loft.

Kurt was grateful to be able to work an extra night.  He liked that he was helping out his friends.  He also like that his bank account would continue to grow.  He had called his dad after finishing his conversation with Jeff.  Burt was beyond thrilled about having Kurt home for almost 2 weeks, even if he would have to do some remote work for Isabelle while there.

Everything was falling into place for Kurt.  Tickets were purchased.  Time-out was approved at both Vogue and Runaways.  And to top it all off, everything that Kurt was earning at the bar now went right into his savings account.  He liked having that buffer back again.  Emergencies could happen anytime and anywhere, he was fully aware of that.

He felt Wes nudge his side while he was reaching up for a fresh bottle of spiced rum from the mirrored shelves.

“I think you have an admirer.”

“Huh?”

“At four o’clock.  Blond, kinda wavy hair.  Beefcake-like arms.  And can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you.”

Kurt snorted at Wes’ description.  He glanced over his right shoulder and there was definitely a piece of dessert looking at him.  The stranger offered a small but confident smile when Kurt caught his eyes.

“Well then,” Kurt told Wes, “I better see how thirsty he is.”

Wes’ chuckle boomed down the bar as he walked away and Kurt approached his new customer.

“Welcome to Runaways!  What can I get for you?” Kurt asked

“Well, I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t get your number if I asked right now.  So how about you just surprise me and we take it from there?” The stranger requested with a delicious accent that made Kurt’s knees want to knock.

Kurt kept his face straight though and gave his own coy smile in return.

“You’re right on the first part.  Any allergies?”

After receiving a small shake of the head in response, Kurt turned to grab two more bottles from the racks along with the spiced rum he brought down earlier.  He scooped ice into a shaker and poured the alcohol in.  He placed another shaker on top and shook everything together while he rimmed half of a martini glass with sugar.

Kurt turned back to his British patron and placed the glass down in front of him.  He tapped the top shaker against the edge of the bar to loosen the seal and grabbed a strainer to catch the ice before he poured.  At the questioning look Kurt revealed what he made for him.

“Just a little slice of American apple pie,” Kurt said with a flirty smirk.  He turned away from the blond before the slack-jawed look he wore made Kurt laugh in his face.

* * *

The crowds thinned out a lot faster on Friday nights than they did on Saturdays at Runaways.  It was just before 2 when Kurt finished counting out his drawer and handed his envelope to Sebastian before traipsing out of the door.  He only managed a few feet before a voice called out to him.

“Hello there.  I believe you promised me a coffee date.”

Kurt turned to see the handsome Brit that he had served on and off through the night at the bar.

_“What would it take to get you to agree to go on a date with me?”_

_Kurt laughs, high and light.  He is used to customers asking him out by now.  He has heard confident suggestions to full blown innuendos.  But nothing as polite as this man seems to be offering._

_“Well, it would take a lot, to be honest.  I am a hard man to please with a very busy schedule,” Kurt breathed back.  He knows how to flirt very well by now.  It doesn’t take much to get the guys biting at the bit to buy more drinks to gain his attention.  It’s an intricate dance of flirting just the right amount to get them to spend money but not expect anything after last call._

_“I am deadly serious.  Name it.”_

“W-what are you doing out here?” Kurt asked.  He was sure that this guy wouldn’t stay around after last call, much less long enough for Kurt to close down.

“You said, and I quote, ‘If you can stick around long enough to meet me at the end of my shift out front, you can buy me some coffee.’  So here I am.”

“Do I get your name?  I feel like I should at least be able to call you by the proper name if you are buying me a drink,” Kurt said with a small wink.

“Adam.  Adam Crawford.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Adam,” Kurt said and held out his hand.  Adam shook it gently.  “Now, let’s get a cup of tea and some _biscuits_.  I don’t think it would be wise to drink coffee this late at night.  Do you?”

Kurt’s use of the word biscuits brought a nice smile and a warm laugh out from Adam.  He didn’t notice that Frank and Sebastian were watching from the bar’s window and trying not to be concerned.

* * *

A week later Santana came home from work on a Monday looking like she had been run over by a bus.  Kurt propped her up on the couch after she changed into her pajamas and made a batch of homemade chicken soup.

“God.  I will never bitch about Berry leaving again if it means I get to have real chicken soup when I’m sick,” Santana said fervently.

Kurt laughed at his roommate before tucking in to the other end of the couch and starting in on his own bowl.  He went through a mental checklist of all the vitamins he currently had and what he would need to buy the next day on his lunch break to make sure he didn’t get what Santana had brought home to him.

* * *

The bright red basket hanging by Kurt’s side was already half full.  He stopped by the facial creams first to grab his usual brands, since he was here anyway.  Then he made his way over to the vitamin row.  He loved this time of day for his little shopping spree.  Many people ran their errands during normal lunch hours but the store was nowhere near as crowded as it would be if Kurt decided to wait until he was off for the day.  He only had to move around a handful of people instead of a store-full.

He loved his pharmacy.  It had a rewards program which saved him money and even gave him monthly coupons on the things he brought regularly.  One could not say that Kurt was not frugal where he needed to be.

Looking down at his basket then back to his list, Kurt started to search for his next target items.  He already had his basic multi-vitamin along with vitamin C.

“Multi-vitamin, check. Vitamin C and B-12, check.  Uh…Oh, vitamin E.  Not only good for the immune system but great for my skin too,” Kurt mumbled to himself as he continued to search through the various capsule filled bottles.  His fellow shoppers moving around him in the store didn’t pay any mind to his mumblings.  A couple had already moved around him on their own for their own vitamins.

“Oh, come on.  Where are you?” Kurt asked the bottles in front of him searchingly.  “Ah there you are, Mr. Echinacea-sh-shit!”

Kurt jumped back as he reached for the bottle because of the presence eerily close to him.

“You know, if I didn’t know you better I would probably be calling for the men with the fun, white jackets to come take you home, Temple.”

“Jesus, Sebastian.”

“Sorry,” Sebastian chuckled.  “But you are the one with a basket of pills and talking to themselves…”

“Firstly, they’re not prescriptions, they are vitamins.  My roomie is sick and I’m not taking any chances,” Kurt said staring Sebastian straight in the eyes.  “Next, this is New York.  Everyone talks to themselves.  It’s only crazy if I have a sign hanging around my neck proclaiming ‘The end is nigh’ or something.”  Kurt glanced into Sebastian’s small basket for his next point.  “And lastly, at least I’m not buying baby wipes in bulk.  Although they are great for make-up removal, I doubt that is why you are purchasing them.”

Sebastian grinned at Kurt’s assumption.

“Well, as much as I love our vendors, I can’t get them in our deliveries.  And while we try not to encourage certain ‘activities’ at the bar, it doesn’t mean that they don’t happen.  I’m just being courteous.”

“Now I am even more grateful for the employee only bathroom,” Kurt shuttered.  He didn’t have anything against a hook-up in the bathroom of a bar.  He had had one or two himself.  But as an employee of a bar where they took place, he didn’t want to do anything to land bathroom cleaning duty.

Sebastian laughed heartily at Kurt and caused him to furrow his brows in confusion.

“If you think that the employee bathroom hasn’t seen action, you must not pay all that much attention to the fact that Jeff and Nick are missing at least once every night at the same time.”

Kurt felt his jaw hanging open at Sebastian’s words.

“Great.  Now I’m going to be paranoid the whole of Thanksgiving.”  At Sebastian’s now confused look Kurt elaborated.  “They are coming over for me and Tana’s Orphan Thanksgiving.  Do you have any plans?  You are more than welcome to come over and feast with us.”

“Well, if nothing else other than for a good meal, I think you would need an extra set of eyes looking out for Frick and Frack right?”

“Exactly,” Kurt nodded and reached out to grab his long forgotten bottle of Echinacea.  “Well, I will see you on Saturday.  My lunch break is almost over and I still need to pay.”

“Yeah, no problem.  See you then.”

Kurt returned to the front of the store to make his purchases before the panic set in. _He had just invited his boss to Thanksgiving dinner._  A dinner that so far consisted of couples: Dani and Santana, Nick and Jeff, Rachel and her new beau, Micah.  And then him, the lone gay guy.  If things weren’t already confused in his mind about Sebastian, his subconscious surfacing with that invite definitely didn’t help matters.

 


	6. Santana's Mulled Wine

Kurt had been acting strange ever since he showed back up to the loft with his portable pharmacy that he purchased.  Santana herself wasn’t too worried over her cold.  When she got sick, it was normally only bad for the first two days and then she was back to normal before the end of the fourth day of ‘the plague’.

She tried not to judge her roommate too badly as he set up a line of bottles on the kitchen table and opened each one methodically.  Kurt grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and then went to each one taking a dose.  He claimed he was too busy to even think about getting sick at her questions about his behavior.  She did however allow him to set up an immune boosting vitamin regimen for her too.

Santana knew something was up with Kurt when he came home, and it wasn’t worry over getting sick.  It was all plain as day to her physic Mexican third eye.  Kurt was spooked about some guy.  She had been witness to his crushes over the years and a couple of the more serious relationships as well, but Kurt had never acted like a ferret trying to hide away something shiny like this before.

Even while blowing her nose, she smirked to herself.   _Oh sweet Porcelain, that acting degree won’t do you a bit of good around Auntie Snixx._

* * *

Santana watched as Kurt flounced around behind that bar that Saturday night.  She saw him wink and flirt a little bit with the customers which she knew was nothing new.  If a bartender wanted good tips they needed to play with the customers a little.

The other two behind the bar were easily the couple that Kurt told her would be coming over next week for their Orphan Thanksgiving tradition.  The way they moved together was perfectly in sync.  Kurt moved with them effortlessly as well but not as smoothly as they did on their own.

Then Kurt stumbled while making a simple drink.  She couldn’t tell what it was from this distance but she saw him chunk the liquid down a sink and quickly grabbed a different bottle before he poured again.  She didn’t want to move closer and risk Kurt seeing her spying; she didn’t want to deal with his bitching about boundaries until she got home and laid her trap.

A few moments later she saw what caused Kurt to get distracted.  A tall, lean, and older guy was half-way across the floor of the bar and moving straight towards Kurt.

_If his path were any more direct, he might as well be a laser,_ Santana thought.

She watched as the man swooped behind the counter of the bar and started to mix drinks side by side with her roommate.  They moved more flawlessly together than the wonder twins at the other end.

Kurt’s cheeks were a slightly darker pink now and she smirked when she knew it wasn’t from the heat of the bar or the furious pace at which he had to make drinks tonight.  But what really caught her attention was how the older guy constantly kept his eyes discreetly on Kurt.  From what she could see, nothing was said between the two other talking about the drinks they were making or helping the other out when a garnish was needed.  It looked like nothing more than two employees helping each other out.  If it weren’t for the subtle eye-fucking and blushing being done by both parties, nothing would seem out of the ordinary.

Santana knew differently.

* * *

“I swear Kurt.  If she brings in that God awful vegan loaf thing she made last year, I will throw it out the damn window,” Santana yelled across the loft as she was cleaning up the living room area.  “We couldn’t get the smell out of here for over a week!”

She watched as Kurt hummed in understanding in front of the stove.  The turkey was covered in foil, waiting for the guests to arrive and the sides were all in the oven.  There were a few things still going on the cooktop but nothing was boiling over and Kurt didn’t ask for any help.

“She won’t.  I made her promise to just bring a simple dish of glazed carrots.  I have some simple tofu ready for her and Micah.  And don’t you dare tell anyone, but the green bean casserole is vegan too,” Kurt said while mashing the potatoes into creamy perfection.

“So, who all is coming again?”  She had been trying to get Kurt to open up about all the flirting she had seen at Runaways but Kurt was being stubborn to a fault.

“The list hasn’t changed since I invited Sebastian,” he sighed.  The forlorn look on his face confused her.

“Did you want someone else to come?”  She was trying to bait him but hoped that he wouldn’t notice.  “What about that Doctor Who guy you told me about a few weeks ago?  Did you ask him?”

“For the last time, his name was Adam.  And we only went out for coffee after my shift that night.  Nothing else happened.”  Kurt was stiff in his movements now.  The masher clanged against the side of the pot as he abandoned it to look in the refrigerator for the heavy cream.  “We didn’t even exchange numbers.  It was just nice to chat to someone from a different country and ask questions.”

“Did you want more?”

Kurt turned to look at her with exasperation written all over his face.  She tossed her hands up in surrender and put an insincere, innocent smile on her face.  Santana knew that he wouldn’t believe her for a minute, but she didn’t want to push it any further.

“No,” Kurt said so quietly that she barely heard it.  “I just invited Sebastian on impulse, to be nice.  I didn’t think about what it would look like until he accepted.”

“Okay, that’s vague even for you.”

“Everyone coming is part of a couple Tana,” Kurt exclaimed letting the masher clang against the side of the pot.

Then it hit her and she couldn’t help but start laughing at the situation her roomie ended up in.

“Don’t worry.  I won’t let your boss know that you want to see his twinkle tube.”

Kurt started to sputter out syllables that had no meaning before turning back to the stove while Santana moved through the loft one last time double checking that everything was tidy and lighting some of the decorative scented candles placed everywhere.

She smirked to herself at Kurt revealing his crush on his boss.

_This may be the best Orphan Thanksgiving yet!_

* * *

Santana could tell that Kurt was on his last string by the time all their guests left hours later.  Whether it was from having to get up and spend the whole day in their kitchen or the stress of trying to hide his attraction to his boss _from_ his boss, she decided to give him a break.  She poured him a glass of red wine from the bottle that Nick and Jeff brought with them and pointed him towards the couch while she picked up the few remaining coffee mugs and scattered dessert plates.  After starting the dishwasher she plopped down next to Kurt.

“I mean this with as much respect as I can muster right now,” Kurt started.  “But if this is about to be a conversation with Auntie Snixx, I really don’t want to have it right now.”

“No, it’s a conversation with good ol’ Tana.  Besides, I think Berry kinda nailed it for me between passing the sweet potatoes and the cranberry sauce,” Santana said with a small chuckle.

Kurt groaned before letting his head fall back against the back of the couch.  Staring at the ceiling he complained, “I can’t believe she said that tonight.  Did you say anything to her or put her up to it?”

“Look at me, Kurt.”  Santana had been slightly amused when Rachel assumed like Kurt had thought she would that this was a couples Thanksgiving instead of the normal Orphan Extravaganza, since everyone else was paired up.  She still didn’t believe that Rachel would so bluntly ask how long Kurt and Sebastian had been dating.  Rachel had gotten so much better about her random brain-to-mouth filter since her freshman year at NYADA.

“I didn’t say a word to anyone.  That was all baby Babs,” she continued.  “I know you said that it’s not a good time for you and it would be awkward as hell to date your boss.  But just let me give you an interesting little tidbit that I picked up tonight.”

At Kurt’s quirked eyebrow she went on.

“Mister Coyote Ugly didn’t seem upset by the accusation.  In fact, I think he is having just as hard a time as you to try to keep things off the radar.”

Santana stood and leaned over the coffee table to blow out the last of the decorative candles leaving Kurt to contemplate the situation among the swirls of pale grey smoke.

 


	7. Spiked Eggnog

**December 19**

**Kurt:**  Just got in.  When are you and Dani coming into town?

**Santana:**  Our flight is in two days.  And we come back to NYC on the 27th.

**Kurt:**  Okay.  Have fun.  I will catch up with you two after you settle in.

**Kurt:**  Oh, and you better not have sex in my room again!

**Santana:**  This is Dani…  If you tell me where you bought your sheets, I will make sure it never happens again.  Those things are freaking soft as hell.

Kurt shook his head at the ridiculousness that was Santana and Dani before leaning back into the seat to give his full attention back to searching the baggage claim area for his father.

A few moments later, he had grabbed his bag off the conveyor belt and was pulling himself away from the crowd to get a better look around.  He then saw Carole frantically waving her arms over her head while his dad was looking for him in the opposite direction.

He rushed over and gave them both a huge hug.  It was nice to be home for a while.

* * *

** December 22 **

**Nick:**  Please tell me you didn’t run away permanently?

**Kurt:**  Hell no.  I love my dad and Carole, but there is no way I’m staying here for longer than a holiday visit.

**Kurt:**  Why?  What’s going on?

**Kurt:**  Nick…..  The longer you wait to respond to me, the worse my imagination is going to become.

**Nick:**  Santana came by the bar yesterday before her flight.

**Kurt:**  Oh no…

**Nick:**  Pretty much.

**Kurt:**  What did she do?

**Nick:**  She and her girlfriend had a couple of drinks, grabbed Sebastian and started chatting with him.  I didn’t hear what they were talking about but by the end of it, Seb looked off.

**Kurt:**  Could you be more vague?  What do you mean ‘off’?

**Nick:**  Just like he had a lot on his mind.  He was pretty loose before they showed up.

**Kurt:**  Thanks for the heads up.  I may need bail money soon, FYI.

**Nick:**  LOL!  Sure thing!

Kurt didn’t want to have to deal with this.  Santana promised that she would stay out of the situation between him and Sebastian.  He furiously tapped out a new text on his phone.

**Kurt:**  You are dead meat Snixx!

**Santana:**  I didn’t do anything.

**Kurt:**  Are you sure you want to go with that answer?  I do live with you and have picked up quite a few of your tricks.

**Santana:**  Alright.  I just planted a seed.  That’s all.

**Kurt:**  Tana!  No.  No more seeds.  No gardening.  Nothing.  I don’t need that.  God, work is going to be soooo awkward the next time I’m there.  Thanks.

**Santana:**  You’re welcome!

**Kurt:**  Sarcasm, Tana.  Sarcasm.

**Santana:**  I know :)                    

“Want to tell me why you seem to be doing your best impersonation of an agitated bear?”

Kurt whipped his head around to see his dad standing by the coffee pot and looking at the empty canister forlornly.  Kurt had just poured the last of it out after he finished his lunch, since it was from this morning.

“Do you want me to make some more coffee, Dad?”  He asked trying to deflect.

“If you don’t mind.  Carole bought that thing four months ago and I still can’t figure out how in the hell it works.”

Kurt smiled.  His dad would always be a little less than useful when it came to the kitchen and its various appliances.  He then pulled out new clean mugs and brought the creamer over to his dad at the table.  The coffee had finished and he brought two steaming mugs with him to join his dad.

Burt scrunched his nose up at the non-fat powdered creamer sitting in front of him, but proceeded to doctor his coffee the way he had become accustomed to taking it since Kurt forced the household changes when he was still in high school.  He passed the creamer to Kurt, but Kurt just waved it off and sipped at the plain, black coffee.

“So, how’s New York treating you?” Burt tried from a different angle.

“It’s treating pretty great actually.  I found out from Isabelle before I left that they are thinking about giving me a raise since my holiday issue idea was such a huge hit.”

“What about that second job you started?  How’s that going?”

Kurt winced slightly thinking about how he was going to have deal with Santana’s meddling when he returned.

“It’s fine.  My boss and I got off on the wrong foot a little when I first started but it’s almost like having a second family.  Kind of how it was like when I was doing shows at NYADA.  Where everyone just comes together and works towards the same thing.”

“So you perform at the bar?”  Burt looked seriously confused.

“No, Dad.”  Kurt chuckled a little.  “We just have to work in sync with one another.  There is a lot of glasses and bottle flying around and if we aren’t working together it makes it harder to actually work.  Does that make sense?”

“Not really kid, but I know you know what you are talking about.  You’ve been over there long enough to not get yourself into anything you don’t want to.”

Burt’s praise always had the most profound effect on Kurt.  The fact that his dad no longer questioned Kurt’s every move about what he was doing in New York made him feel more like the grown up he had been trying to prove to his dad that he was since the day he left Lima behind.  Kurt no longer had to wonder what his dad would say or think about his decisions.  He knew, without a doubt that Burt trusted him to live his own life.  He also knew that his dad would be there if he happened to fall too.

* * *

** December 27 **

**Sebastian:**  Are you still good to work on New Year’s Eve?

**Kurt:**  Hi Sebastian!  How are you?  Did you have a good holiday?

Kurt couldn’t help but pull his bosses leg a little.  Every time Sebastian sent him a text it was very demanding and lacked any time of social grace.  He was also hoping to not let on that he knew about what Santana had done before she came home for the holidays as well.

**Sebastian:**  Hi Kurt.  Just peachy.  Yes.  Now answer the question.

Kurt sighed.   _Well at least I got that much out of him._

**Kurt:**  You know I can sense the sarcasm over 800 miles away.

**Kurt:**  And yes.  I still plan on working on New Year’s.  My flight is supposed to get in at 1 and I’ll be there by 7.

**Sebastian:**  Thank god.  I don’t think I could handle another night without someone to insult people with.  No one has the same amount of contempt that you do.

**Kurt:**  I do try.

Kurt didn’t receive another message after that.  He liked the fact that Sebastian at least exchanged a few pleasantries with him.  At least as pleasant as Sebastian ever got when it came to texting.  He also wondered about the sideways compliment that he received.  Hopefully any damage that Santana had done before leaving town wouldn’t affect how they worked together.  Kurt didn’t want to have to experience the cold-shouldered version of Sebastian that lingered through the bar for the majority of September and the first half of October.

 


	8. Champagne Toast

The day before Kurt’s flight back to New York, a new winter storm started sweeping across the country.  It was hitting the southern states and delivering snow and ice that they weren’t prepared to handle.  Local newscasters and meteorologist were all jumping on the band wagon to insight panic and unrest.

Kurt never understood why they would want to do that.  He would just assume them to keep to the facts of the storm and tell him where it was heading, when it would be over, and how much snow/ice he would have to deal with.  He didn’t want to hear about the fact that this was the first time in 17 years that significant snow was expected to fall in the Ozarks or wherever else they were talking about.  Lima wasn’t anywhere close to the Ozarks or ‘its potential for record breaking flooding’.

He diligently checked his email alerts for changes to his flight itinerary and looked up the forecast for Bushwick then checked on the incoming flight status for JFK airport too.  So far the storm wasn’t going to affect his flight.  It was supposed to stay low and move slow up the east coast and not reach New York till late tomorrow afternoon after he had already landed.

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he would be back home in New York in time to catch a quick nap before he headed to Runaways for what was sure to be a crazy and busy night.

* * *

_ *Attention passengers: This is your captain.  It looks like the storm has caught up to us just a little bit.  We are going to go up a little higher to avoid some of the turbulence, so we may have a few bumpy patches here in a minute.  Also we are going to be in a holding pattern for a bit while the ground crew make sure the runway is clear enough for us to land safely.  We will keep you updated as we get closer to arrival.* _

Kurt sighed heavily as he pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to check his watch.  6:06pm, great.

The slow moving storm from last night gained some kind of supernatural speed over the hours that Kurt was sleeping in his old bed.  Instead of following Kurt into New York on his coattails, it was zooming along and had already past Kurt.  By the time he landed it would be at least a quarter to seven.  There was no way that he would be able to make to Runaways on time even if the roads and trains from JFK were clear.

Kurt was bouncing his leg anxiously as the intercoms popped to life again with the captain’s voice almost 20 minutes later.

_*Good evening, everyone.  On behalf of the crew and your co-pilot, I wanted to thank you for your patience as we get ready to descend into JFK.  Local time of arrival will be 6:49pm.  We appreciate you sticking with us through the storm.  Flight attendants please prepare the cabin for landing.*_

A small round of applause lifted up from all of his fellow passengers but Kurt couldn’t be bothered to be happy about finally landing.  He was late.  Seriously late and to top it off, he hadn’t thought to call Sebastian to let him know how late his delayed flight would be.

Kurt had only sent off a quick text at 1 to let him know that his flight would be later getting in than originally expected.  Sebastian just sent a quick ‘Fine’ in response.  By the time the flight was boarding, Kurt was more concerned about finding a place for his carry on and sending his dad a message that he was finally taking off before powering off his phone.  Now he wished he had sent one more text to give his boss a head’s up to his situation.

He didn’t know how he was going to make it in time.  That thought should be let go, there was no way that was happening now.  The next thought was how he was going to be able to make it through his whole shift without passing out from exhaustion.  While he did sleep while in his old room, it was light and hardly a quality night’s rest.

As Kurt was trying to think through all the clothes in his suitcase to come up with a suitable change of clothes for the bar, the plane jolted at the landing gear came into contact with the tarmac.  He quickly reached into his messenger bag down at his feet to grab his phone.  He sent a quick message to his dad that he had landed safe and sound.  Then he shot a frantic message to Sebastian.

**Kurt:**  Plane just got in.  The storm was awful and we got delayed.  I will be there as soon as possible.  I will need to change and store my suitcase in your office till the end of the night.

**Sebastian:**  Fine.

Kurt released a huff of air as he unbuckled his seatbelt and prepared to depart with the rest of the passengers as soon as they got to the gate.

* * *

Kurt’s taxi pulled up in front of Runaways at just after 8.  There was already a line of bundled up patrons waiting to get let in and have their coats checked.  He could see Frank on the front stoup checking IDs meticulously.

He paid his fare and busied himself getting his suitcase out of the back of the cab.  As he walked up along the line of waiting customers, he heard a few of them call out to him.  It made him smile and feel a little like a celebrity.

Frank lifted his head at the shouts.

“Seems like you have some fans,” he said in his soft but gruff voice.

“It certainly seems that way.  Care to give me a heads up before I walk in?  How pissed is he?”

Frank shook his head with a faint grin.  Kurt didn’t know what to make of the gesture and struggled to get his suitcase through the door and avoid running anyone over with it as he worked his way towards the office.  He caught Sebastian’s eyes from where he was working at Kurt’s normal station and point between himself and Sebastian’s office.  He received a nod and took that as approval to do what he needed to.

As soon as the door closed behind Kurt, he let his suitcase lay flat and unzipped it.  He pawed through his clothes that he had thankfully washed before he packed them away for his flight back.  He pulled out the first pair of jeans he came across, a simple relax fit that wasn’t nearly as tight as he normally wore while working, but at this point he really didn’t care.

He was frantically looking for a shirt next.  He didn’t have any of his normal plain, black button downs that he usually wore.  The only thing close enough was a simple black V-neck t-shirt.  Kurt had only ever worn it as an undershirt.  It was cut close to his body to prevent bunching under the layer that was on top of it.

Kurt felt another sigh rising up but swallowed it down.  There was nothing more to do than to change and get out there and make some money.  He pulled out his reliable Chucks and zipped his suitcase back closed.

He unfastened his belt and kicked his shoes off at the same time and kicked them under a chair in the corner of the room.  Next he buttoned his pants and gently tugged his shirt out so that he could unbutton it.  It was quick work for Kurt as he placed both his button up and undershirt down on the chair next.

Kurt didn’t hear the door open due to the rustle of pulling shirts over his head so when he heard Sebastian’s throat clear he jumped like a spooked rabbit.

“Just wanted to let you know that Wes is your runner again tonight and that you’re all signed into the register and ready to go when you get out there.”

Kurt nodded at the strained tone of Sebastian’s voice.  His face wasn’t hard or pissed off looking.  It looked forcefully placid.

“Thanks,” Kurt said as he turned around to grab his t-shirt but he heard the door click shut behind his back and continued getting dressed.

There was a loud cheer from the bar that could be heard from the office as Kurt pulled off his pants and quickly shoved his legs into his jeans.  He laced up his shoes and rushed out of the office to see what the commotion was.

* * *

Kurt was shocked at what he saw.

Nick and Jeff were known to flirt and dance with each other behind the bar, but they had never done anything like this.  Kurt looked over to where Sebastian and Hunter were at the end of the bar and tried to gauge their reactions.  Apparently it wasn’t a big deal that the two men were on top of the bar doing a fairly elaborate dance to an old Nelly and Christina Aguilera song.

The crowd was going nuts as the two danced around and then began to grind on one another.  Kurt even saw Sebastian put his index fingers into the corners of his mouth and let out a shrill whistle that made the crowd respond with their own cheers that much louder.

By the time the guys were climbing off the bar a rush of people started to come up to the bar to order drinks.  It was all everyone could do to try to keep up.  Sebastian was taking orders and pouring drinks right beside the four bartenders.

After close to 30 minutes it seemed like there was a small lag in the drink rush and Kurt was able to ask what had brought them to dance on the bartop.

“Oh, just a tradition.  Nothing big or crazy or anything,” Nick said while pulling on the tap of a microbrew and filling a pilsner glass with amber liquid and just the right about of a foam head.

“Tradition?”

“Yeah,” Jeff jumped in.  “Every year Moby and me jump up there and dance.  I don’t know why we started doing it, but its fun.”

“Last year Doc got up there and sang ‘Whistle’ if you can believe that,” Sebastian said as he moved around putting bottles back on the shelves.

“Not bi-curious my ass,” Kurt mumbled and caused the guys around him to laugh loudly.

“I heard that Temple!” Kurt heard Hunter yell from his spot at the end on the bar.  “You’re next, so I wouldn’t talk shit if I were you!”

At that Kurt blanched.  He wasn’t told that he had to get on top of a bar and sing and dance for people.  It all felt a little too cliché for him.  Like something right out of a movie.

“Don’t worry,” Sebastian said.  “You don’t have to.  But I guarantee the tips will be crazy if you can pull it off.”

Kurt swallowed hard and nodded.  “Just give me a while and I will let you know.”

* * *

The bar was more crowded for New Year’s Eve than Kurt thought it would be considering that Times Square was less than an hour away.  According to everyone there though, being at Runaways was preferable to standing in the cold for hours at a time with no reasonable bathroom facilities.  From that perspective, Kurt could definitely agree.

As the night slow crept on, the crowd seemed to get larger and more restless.  On a normal night, the four of them could easily handle the orders coming in and still goof off and pull jokes on each other.  Tonight was all about efficiency.  There wasn’t the sight of bottles flying through the air or Sebastian standing on the bar and making a lewd announcement.  The only thing out of the ordinary was Jeff and Nick’s dance nearly 3 hours ago.

The closer to midnight, the more wild it got.  Sebastian had even stepped in and was taking as many orders as possible instead of barely helping out and smoozing with the customers.  It felt like an old pirate movie when the captain would call out for ‘All hands on deck’.

“This is getting kinda crazy, Sebastian.  I feel like we are about to get overrun.”

“Well, that might just happen unless you got any bright ideas to get them to back off a bit,” Sebastian threw back.

Kurt jerked his head towards the sound console near the office door.  Once he got a nod from Sebastian he picked it up and scrolled through all the available songs and found what he was looking for.  He instantly changed the song and everyone in the bar could tell something was happening since it cut another song off right in the middle of the chorus.

Beyoncé’s voice poured out of the speakers and Kurt jumped on to the bar and started moving to the lyrics.  It was always a running joke with his friends that he still knew all the moves to the ‘Single Ladies’ dance.  Kurt would snap back that it was only because every time they all got drunk together someone would inevitably dare him to do it.

He couldn’t put as much into it as he normally would have been able to since he was so exhausted from traveling and standing behind the bar for so long as well.  The moves and kicks did enough to get everyone to back up from the bar for a while which was the intended purpose.  Kurt glanced over his shoulder at the guys and saw that they were taking the distraction as a chance to refresh their stations and grab few quick drinks of water.

Kurt knew the song was only just over three minutes but every time a set of ‘Woah-uh-oh-oh’s started again he felt his body sagging just a little more.  It didn’t seem to come across to everyone that was cheering him on though.  He plowed through and finally popped his last pose to a huge round of applause and catcalls.  He waved tiredly and started to try to slip off the top of the bar.  His eyes felt heavy and moving his felt like they were filled with cement.

Kurt felt a pair of hands grip his waist and help him the rest of the way off the bar.  He stumbled a bit and tripped into a firm, slightly sweaty chest.  He looked up and saw Sebastian looking down at him carefully with eyes casting a glimmer of appreciation.  Sebastian tilted his head towards his office and when Kurt nodded he could hear some in the crowd call out, “One minute to midnight, Bitches!”

 

 


	9. Kiss on the Lips

Kurt could hear the crowd behind the door counting down but he couldn’t tell what number they were on.  The only thing he could distinctly hear was the muffled smacks of Sebastian’s lips on his.

As soon as he had helped Kurt off of the bar, Sebastian put his hand at the small of Kurt’s back and led him to the door of his office.  When he entered, Kurt quickly spun around to face Sebastian and both met halfway and claimed the other’s lips.

Sebastian twisted them deftly and gently pinned Kurt against the door.  Kurt’s hands gripped Sebastian tightly at his waist, while Sebastian’s hands grabbed at Kurt’s shoulder and neck.

Kurt moved his mouth to the corner of Sebastian’s mouth and along his cheek.  He wanted to keep moving his lips over the light dusting of sharp stubble; to feel the tingle of the pinpricks as they jolted his senses and sent him into overdrive.  Kurt used his hands to pull Sebastian’s hips flush against his own.

Sebastian’s weight felt good pressing onto him, and his hands felt even better as they tugged Kurt’s shirt out of the waist of his pants and started to stroke along his exposed stomach.  Kurt could hear a loud cheer ring through the bar on the other side of the door, but tuned it out.

Kurt didn’t even think about the possible repercussions when he moved his hands to start working the buttons of Sebastian’s shirt through the holes.  He could blame it on his recent dry spout, he could blame it on the exhaustion and therefore lack of care that came from his horrible day of travelling, he could even blame it on the tense air that going home always afforded him, and him needing strictly a release.

But Kurt didn’t.  Sebastian had been in the background of his thoughts too often for this to be coincidence for Kurt.  The sounds of lips smacking and fabric rustling only made his actions more desperate, and soon the smooth freckled skin of Sebastian’s chest was under his fingertips.

Kurt felt the edge of his own shirt getting pulled up his chest and lifted his arms in compliance to Sebastian’s wordless wishes.  He got slightly tangled in the mass of frantic hands and sharp elbows when a sharp pain went through the back of his head.  He stumbled forward and Sebastian caught him; their heavily panting chests moving slickly against one another.

* * *

 

Kurt looked up and followed Sebastian’s gaze and landed on Jeff’s head peeking out from the edge of the door.

 _Well that explained the instant headache I have now,_ thought Kurt.

“Um, hi guys.” Jeff said meekly. “Wow, nice tatts Kurt.”

“What do you need Jeffrey?” asked Sebastian as he and Kurt untangled themselves from each other.

“Just to let you know that its half past midnight and we lost a good chunk of people after the ball drop.  Same as last year, most likely going to hook up with their kiss recipients.” He added with a small chuckle.  “Anyway.  Frank just wanted to know when you wanted to do last call.”

Kurt pulled his t-shirt back over his head and then realized it was inside out, so he quickly stripped it off again to put it on correctly.  He saw Sebastian out of the corner of his eye refastening the buttons of his own shirt.

“Tell him I will be out in just a minute.  And I would appreciate some discretion on your part about what you walked in on.”

Jeff nodded and left them alone again.

“Why don’t you get out of here?  You’re dead on your feet and I can close out your station for you.  Just come back on Wednesday and I will have your tips.”

“Thanks.  Do y-” Kurt was cut off by the sound of the door clicking shut behind Sebastian and he slumped his shoulders in defeat.  Kurt turned and started to repack the clothes that he traveled in that were still on the chair at the back of the office.

_Good going, Kurt.  Kiss your boss.  Great idea._

* * *

Santana was making way too much noise the morning for a day that they both had off of work.  Neither had to be in till the next day and she was going about her normal routine like she was 10 minutes late and making no effort to keep her motions a secret.  Feeling like there was nothing left to do but force a cup of coffee into his system, Kurt came out to the kitchen to see what had set his roommate on edge.

“Any particular reason you sound like you are trying to destroy the kitchen this morning?”  Kurt asked as he watched Santana opening and closing cupboards without what seemed to be any rhyme or reason.

“Right now isn’t a good time for your perfect reasoning Kurt,” she snapped.

Kurt threw his hands up in defense and moved to the coffee pot and filled one of the mugs next to it.

“I just-” Santana started and Kurt had never seen her act quite this defeated.  “Dani and I got into a fight last night.  It was stupid and all my fault but I don’t know how to make it up to her.”

Kurt ah-ed to himself and offered Santana an acknowledging nod.  He knew that Santana needed to talk at someone to work out her emotional issues.  They were both the same that way.  They needed a sounding board to get it all out so that they could come to the right conclusion.

“I just need to tell her.”  At that Kurt’s head jerked up.   _Tell her what?_

“Tell her what, Tana?”

“That I don’t want to move in with her into her apartment.  I don’t want to leave this place.  You and Rachel really let me be myself here and I figured out a lot about what I want and who I am here.”  Santana didn’t often get emotional, but when she did, it was always big.  “I guess I need to ask you about that then.”

“You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“If my apology goes well, would you be willing to have another roommate?  I was thinking it is time to take that next step with Dani.  I mean, we have been together for close to a year now.”

“It wouldn’t really be any different than how it is now, would it?” Kurt asked with a small laugh.  “The only thing that would change is that I won’t get two free nights with the place to myself when you sleep over at her house and we get to lower our rents.  All in all, I think that is something I am willing to sacrifice.”

“Something is off.”

And with that, Santana switched gears immediately.  She could tell that Kurt was trying to cover over moment last night with Sebastian.

“No it’s not.  I’m just not cut out for this whole ‘two jobs’ thing.  It’s draining me a bit,” Kurt tried to deflect.  It didn’t work.

“Bullshit.”

Kurt groaned and sat heavily into one of the kitchen chairs.  He told Santana everything from the night before and even earlier.  The flirty touches that always made him wonder, the light banter that seemed so effortless for the two of them, all the way up to the aborted make-out session that definitely would have went further had it not been for Jeff’s ill timing.

“And you know, I have been through this workplace dating thing before.  It doesn’t work.  Even though I don’t like having to have a second job, unless or until Dani decides she wants to permanently shack up with you, I need it.  It’s good money.  I like having that buffer in my savings account for emergencies.”

“I hardly think new boots are an emergency, Kurt.”

Kurt shot her a serious look.

“Okay, alright.  I’m joking.  But look at it this way,” she tried to coax.  “You both are really into each other.  And like you said, it seems to be easy for you guys and you’re not even together.  So, when Dani gives me an answer, I expect you to quit and go for it with your boss.  Who knows, maybe you can find a new kink in there.  Back office sex can become your new thing.”

“Why do I bother to tell you anything?” Kurt asked more to himself than Santana as she laughed her way out of the kitchen.

“Just watch out for loose staples,” Santana called out to him before his firmly closed his door.

* * *

Runaways was eerily quiet Wednesday.  There was no one moving boxes or stocking the shelves.  Frank wasn’t at the door keeping watch and there were no runners or backing staff cleaning.  Kurt was surprised that the door opened when he pulled on it earlier.

He walked to the office where he could hear music softly coming from the door and knocked lightly to get Sebastian’s attention.  His boss was seated behind his desk and it was covered with all sorts of receipts and invoices and who knew what else.  Kurt didn’t envy him.  He could handle his own finances just fine but he had never wanted to be responsible for something as big as the bar.  It just seemed a little of overwhelming and told Sebastian so, hoping to break the awkwardness that this could be leading to.

“Wow.  I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that stuff.”

“Nah, I’m used to it by now,” Sebastian said keeping it light.  “You should have seen me when I first opened and didn’t have a system yet.  Frank thought I was going to go bald from pulling at my hair all the time.”

And just like that, Kurt was at ease.  Things between them can still be light and friendly.  There was no need to rock the boat.  He would just get his tips and leave, come back on Saturday and work like he always had.  Like his boss hadn’t somehow grabbed ahold of a piece of him.

Sebastian handed him an envelope with his name on it and Kurt thanked him briefly and offered a sincere “See you on Saturday” before Sebastian called out to him.

“Can we talk?  About what happened on New Year’s?”

“I didn’t think there was anything to talk about,” Kurt said.  “Things got a little out hand.  We are good friends, so we were comfortable, and, yeah…”

Kurt had thought about how he wanted to handle the whole thing with Sebastian.  He didn’t want to give away his feelings with only Santana’s point of view of what Sebastian’s might be.  He had never shown more than light affection towards Kurt that he could tell.

“No.  I don’t think that was what happened.  At least for me it wasn’t,” Sebastian said.  He looked concerned but not scared.  It’s obvious to Kurt that Sebastian had had time to think this through as well and it also seemed like Kurt might be eating a piece of crow in front of Santana when he gets home.

“You’re right,” Kurt conceded with a small sigh, letting his hands slap against the outside of his thighs as he was still standing.  “But I have done the whole ‘dating your co-worker’ thing before and it didn’t end well.  Add to that the fact that you are actually my boss…  I think that is a new extreme and I don’t really feel comfortable doing that.”

Sebastian stood and walked to the front of his desk to lean against it.

“So let me get this straight,” Sebastian started while taking off his glasses.  “If you weren’t working for me, I could kiss you again?  Right here, right now?”

Kurt swallowed hard and managed a short nod of his head.  He watched as Sebastian pushed against the desk and walked to him.  His hands felt warm on Kurt’s hip and cheek.

“Then you’re fired.”

Kurt barely registered the words before feeling Sebastian’s lips lightly push against his.  He allowed himself a few brief seconds of contact before pushing away.

“I can’t do that Sebastian.  I need this job for a little while longer.  Can we- Can you just give me that much?  Another couple of weeks?”

Sebastian moved his hands to Kurt’s that were still pressing against his chest to back away from him.

“Sure.”

Kurt gave Sebastian’s hands a gentle squeeze in thanks before he turned and practically ran back to the subway station.  He pulled out his phone and quickly shot off a text to Santana.

 **Kurt:**  You were right.

 **Santana:**  I usually am.  But enlighten me as to what I’m right about this time.

 **Kurt:**  Your seed was planted well apparently.

 **Santana:**  Fuck yes!

 **Santana:**  Did he sweep everything off his desk and just take you?

 **Santana:**  Or did he just lay you out over the bar?

Kurt shook his head at his best friends rapid-fire text antics.

 **Kurt:**  Oh my gods!  Santana!  Just- no!

 **Kurt:**  But he did try to fire me so that he could kiss me again.

 **Santana:**  I’m actually gagging from the about of cheese in that sentence.

 **Kurt:**  Hey!  It was a good line and appropriate for the moment.

 **Kurt:**  But yeah, it was kinda cheesy!  :)

 **Kurt:**  Did you talk to Dani yet?

 **Santana:**  I’m on my way there now.  Wish me luck?

 **Kurt:**  She loves you and will understand.  Just apologize and you’ll be fine.  Good luck.

* * *

Over the next week, the loft was a maze of random boxes and new pieces of furniture to add to their already eclectic style.  All of Kurt’s afternoons after he left Vogue were spent moving Dani’s things either into the loft or into a small storage unit in the basement of their building.

Santana apologized to Dani and didn’t come home that night, and the next night after work when she showed up with Dani they were both carrying a small box and a suitcase each.  Kurt had dried off his hands quickly from where he was cooking dinner and gave them both a hug and welcomed Dani as a permanent resident of the loft.

Dani was able to find a renter to sublet her apart to until her lease was up, someone in a band that she used to be in, fairly quickly.  Once that happened, the three new roommates went over the finances for the apartment and added Dani into the rotation for paying the gas bill and grocery shopping.

Kurt looked at his own bills that night after the two girls went to bed.  He had to talk to Sebastian this Saturday as his two week deadline that he gave himself would be up.

With his rent going back down to how it was before he started at Runaways, he could afford to let the job go, plus he had a meeting with Isabelle next Thursday and he hoped it was about the raise she had mentioned before he left for Christmas.  He smiled to himself and knew just the way to let Sebastian know.

* * *

It was just like any other Saturday night at Runaways.  The crowd was full of regulars.  Nick and Jeff danced together a little.  Frank was his usual quiet self by the door.  Hunter had already earned a couple of nicknames from Sebastian for the night.  And Sebastian…

Sebastian seemed to sense that something was going on with Kurt.

Kurt kept his face collected.  He made drinks, did a couple of flair moves every once in a while, but more often than not, he snuck sly glances at his soon to be ex-boss.  As soon as last call was announced, Kurt hurried to cash out his drawer.  He also reached into his messenger bag in the small locker near his register and retrieved a slip of paper.

While everyone else was busy chatting and counting out their drawers for the night, Kurt walked up to Sebastian with his envelope and the piece of paper front and center.  He handed both over with a big grin.

“What’s that?” Sebastian asked about the addition to the envelope.

“Just my letter of resignation,” Kurt said with a flirty tone and turned back to get his bag away from a stunned Sebastian.

Before he got two steps away, Kurt felt a hand close around his wrist.  Sebastian was standing and started to pull Kurt towards the office.  On the way there he called out over his shoulder to Frank.

“Collect the rest of the envelopes for me and leave them in the front safe.”

Kurt giggled as he heard the rest of the employees that were left cheering at them before they were cut off by the office door closing, and then Kurt didn’t really care what happened next.  He had the rest of the night to figure out where this thing with Sebastian was heading, and so far it was only making it as far as Sebastian’s desk.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it!  
> I plan to add extras for this fic on my tumblr, such as drink recipes and extra one-shots/deleted scenes later.  
> I want to thank the great mods for the Kurt Hummel Big Bang for organizing such a great Bang! They have had a busy time running this and deserve all sorts of kudos! Next my artist, penguinswithguns for her bartender!Kurt art (see the tumblr post). And Finally, Totoropirate. My twinsie and partner in crime, also my kick ass beta. She has been a constant for me when I was planning this and the biggest cheerleader anyone could ever ask for. I love you Twinsie! You pushed me when I didn’t feel like writing and loved me even though I made you frustrated with the cliffhangers and plot bunnies. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.


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